Written in the Stars
by Mynameisnancy - deceased
Summary: Naomi is 23 and serving a long prison sentence. After 3 and a half years of cell block misery, a transfer to more open conditions, and a new personal officer, life seems to be getting better But is it? More plot twists than a pigs tail and several chapters which should be read alone.. Other Skins characters appear in very different personalities than those we remember. Just saying
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

**OK, so after reading so many spectacularly good stories on this site, I plucked up the courage to poke my toe in the water and add an idea of my own.**

**I make no claims to great literature, and it will become pretty evident, pretty quickly that I have 'borrowed' both my chief protagonists and my basic idea from Skins and another quite popular show. However, I promise that apart from that caveat, nothing in this story is stolen from anyone else, here or anywhere else.**

**This will be told in POV format, and I will alternate characters, without, hopefully, repeating too much. So, enough prevarication Nancy, tell the fucking story!**

** I do not own Skins, although if I did, there would be a Naomily series 7. Period!  
**

Naomi:

I opened my eyes slowly, and as I started to wake properly, a smile began to form on my lips as I took in the familiar scene in front of me. A still, tranquil blue lake, fringed with cypress and beam trees and in the distance, the merest hint of dawn sunlight filtering through to cast long shadows on the water. As my brain drank in the beauty on display, I let myself believe for a second or two that it was real. But as my stiff body creaked stirred and my mind shook itself properly awake, I knew the reality of my morning. Same as every other morning.

The curled edges of the picture, the rough painted brickwork around it and the just discernible smell of disinfectant and human bodies conspired to spoiled my dream. It was just a picture. A _nice_ picture, about 20" x 10", stuck to the wall with government issue toothpaste, and lately showing significant signs of age. After all, it had been on one wall or another for three and a half years now. 1291 days and counting, this image had been pasted onto the wall next to my bed. Whichever bed I happened to be in. Right opposite my pillow, so that the first thing I saw when I woke every day, was this vision of the wonders nature can create.

It had been sent to me by my mum. Back in the days when we were still in touch. In those first few months when my mind was in blind shock and the 10 year prison sentence I was just beginning was so fucking overwhelming that I blocked it out and clutched at anything which would remind me of home. Bristol. Days in the park, student parties, MDMA, stolen kisses. Hope. Yeah hope. I remember that. Seems like forever.

I rolled over, taking in the rest of my 'room'. Yeah, they called them rooms now. But it was a cell, just like every other cell I had been in those 1291 days. Small, barred window high up on the wall. My single bed, with its rough too often washed sheets and regulation woollen red and green knitted blanket. A plain brown table and chair opposite, my OU books and notepads still scattered on it from last nights study. In the corner by the door, a small,regularly scrubbed but still awful toilet with a laughable 'modesty panel' to one side. Modesty, right. That's one thing I had given up from day one of this sentence. If it wasn't overweight female officers with body odour issues finding flimsy excuses for strip and cavity searches, it was the occasional predatory middle aged male screw who thought that any female under 25 was fair game for a 'hide the sausage' session in the showers or games room.

You learn quickly in here. You learn to hide everything. Tobacco, toiletries, your favourite knickers, letters from home. Oh, and most important, what you're thinking. Emotions and reactions are watched and analyzed by all the jackals and hyenas in here. Screws, cons, governors, fucking sociologists and head fuckers. One sign of weakness and you are fucked, sometimes literally. Like I said, you learn quickly. Or go under.

I came in here at 19, technically a Young Prisoner. Potentially vulnerable they call it.

Just a green light for any screw or older con to use you and abuse you is more like it. Vulnerable women die in here. I've seen that too.

I was never much of a shrinking violet. Even in my early teens, I learned to protect myself with a tough outer shell. People hurt you if you give them the chance. That's what they do. Like scorpions taken on boat rides, they sting you. Its in their nature.

So lucky me. I had a head start when the outside gate clanged shut and my real life ended. This was my life now. Regimented, repetitive and grey. Grey walls, grey people, grey blankets and grey future. One big nothing.

I groaned as I sat up. A small 'disagreement' with that alpha female cow Jodie on G3 landing yesterday had left some pretty spectacular multicoloured bruises on my forearm and I think she may have loosened a tooth or two. However, it was unlikely we would be meeting up any time soon. She was in the hospital wing with a pretty severe case of concussion, An unexpected meeting with a convenient toilet door seemed to have cooled her desire to maim me. She looked almost human laying on the wet floor with a dazed 'what the fuck' look on her face. Temporarily.

What the fuck I had done to deserve it I don't know anyway. Just the usual prison shit... she said something, I delivered my trademark fuck off response and the rest is a blur of punches and serious hair pulling. I just managed to get behind my door before a dozen burly heavy mob screws pounded down the landing and mobbed the toilets. One nil to Campbell. Just as well her 'posse' won't get the chance to ride to her rescue.

I squinted up at the thin dawn light trying its best to brighten my room. It must be just before 6. Being in here develops a pretty accurate internal alarm clock. No genius involved, just months and months of monotonous routine. Up at 6, slop out. Breakfast (if you can call lumpy porridge and cremated sausage meat breakfast) lock up. Open up at 9 for work. Line up and be counted through the sally gate to the main wing, where cleaning and serving tea to the screws took up most of the morning. 12 noon, line up, be counted back onto our wing. Serve the other cons lunch. Lock up. 1.30 pm unlock, collect the meal trays from outside the landing cells. Pile them into towers for the kitchen staff to collect. Lock up. 2.15pm, unlock, back to the main wing for more cleaning. Back at 3.30pm. Serve tea at 4. Lock up. Unlock at 6. Serve stewed tea via the big metal churns from the kitchen, cell by cell to the other cons. Lock up. Lights out at 8. Hell of an interesting day huh?.

Mind you. Today was gonna be different, So different I felt my stomach clench at the reminder of how things were going to change for me. You see, although prisoners hate the routine and mindless monotony of prison life, in some ways we get to rely on it. On the outside, change is a good thing. New job, new flat, new girlfriend (oh, sorry, forgot to mention I'm gay. Lucky me huh?)

But in here the routine is like a cosy suffocating blanket, insulating you from the hell which is always just outside your door. Offend a screw and its Governors report, 3 days down the block and loss of privileges. Offend another con, and depending on her status in the hen house, you could end up with an extra smile just under your chin, or if she was feeling less homicidal, a nice jug of boiling water, with plenty of added sugar so it sticks to the skin of your face and neck when thrown over you. Think I'm being over dramatic? I've seen both done several times. Not nice.

Anyway, as I dress quickly (you learn that too, when you've been perved over via the Judas hole by numerous screws). They do love a bit of young flesh in here, and I am just the right age for leching over. 23 now, but I know that if I serve my whole sentence, I won't look 29 when I get out. More like 40. It ages you, you see, this grey and shadowy world I live in.

I can hear you thinking. "But why are you in this hell hole Naomi?"

Simple. Two words (if you leave out the inevitable cussing) – James fucking Cook.

James Cook, who sold me drugs at knock down prices, so I could be his little buffer in the world of dealing. Nice earner for those little extras we all need, right?

James Cook, who sat next to me in the night club on that awful night and slipped 'something special' into my JD and Coke.

James Cook, who spent the next hour whispering filth in my unresponsive ear.

James Cook, who poured me into his car and drove away from the club.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled me from the drivers seat (Yeah, I'm puzzled about that too?) of his BMW 6 series and forced me to look at what 'I' had done.

A young couple, in their teens. Faces blank in death. Under the fucking wheels.

Add to that the half pound of puff and 600 E's in the boot.

What would you think if you were a copper?

Well they did. And so did the Judge, Probation Officer, Prosecution, and most importantly, the Jury. 12 men and women good and true. Looked at me like they had shit under their fingernails. 15 minutes they were out.

Guilty. Causing Death by Dangerous Driving. Two counts. Possession with intent to supply.

The judge said people like me needed to be taught a severe lesson, and he was giving me the 10 years to send a strong message to anyone else who might be tempted to deal drugs before driving a powerful car under the influence. He said if he could, he would have given me longer.

My life ended then. I heard the thump as my mum collapsed in the public gallery. After that, the numbness I have now was all that was left.

A hearty thump on my door was followed by the jangle of heavy keys. The lock rattled and the door swung open with a bang. Do you know how long it has been since I had a handle on the inside of my door? 1291 days... Oh yeah, I've said that.

"Come on Campbell" the screw said. Actually, Mrs Powell wasn't a bad old stick. In her late 50's short and stout just like the proverbial teapot with cropped grey hair. Fuck me I hope I don't look as much like a cartoon dyke when I'm her age.

But she was at least civil to me, unlike some of the fuckers.

"Looking forward to moving on?" she blessed me with a thin smile, showing off her nicotine stained teeth a treat.

Was I fuck. Like I said, cons get used to what they're used to, and change inside is usually a bad thing.

"Not really" I smiled back in my normal cold con/screw interaction mode

"I was just getting to like the old place"

Her eyes narrowed as she looked for anything approximating sarcasm, but I kept my blank Campbell mask on and she decided it wasn't worth pursuing

"Well, most girls would be pleased at getting out of this damp old building into a nice new purpose built unit. Especially as you've been recategorised C"

I'd better explain that. When I first got here, because of the length of my sentence and my age, I was categorised 'At Risk' Which is virtually the same as Cat A 'high risk of escape' category. Like I was Ronnie Kray for fucks sake. It meant 15 minute observations. Single cell, no exercise. Lights on all night. Almost drove me mad for 3 months. Since then I have been category B, which is 'prisoners for whom escape must be made difficult'. Result, high walls, razor wire and old fashioned cellular confinement.

Category C is where I'm headed. Still the fence and razor wire, but no cells, open association with other prisoners and, if you're good, work outside the gates. In the real world. Frightened the shit out of me.

Oh, and the kicker is, I had to accept 'rehabilitative counselling'

What the fuck that is I have no idea. More head fuckers trying to make me remember my Dad interfering with me, I guess (he didn't, but by the time these people have finished, you almost believe it)

Pleasant early morning conversation had obviously weakened old Powell, because she flopped onto my chair and ordered me to get her a cup of tea. I didn't really mind. Got me out of the trek to the kitchen with the other orderlies. I walked along the landing to the screws office and poured a cup of strong tea into the mug saying '_BOSS_'

I know, they actually believe it too. Fuckers.

The other screws in the office ignored me, which was normal. Screws think cons are invisible most of the time. Some of the stories I have overheard while I've been landing orderly would make your hair curl. But I digress...

After old Powell had slurped her tea and regained her strength, she reverted to official mode.

"Come on then Campbell" she barked "I see you have packed your gear. Lets get down to Reception.

Now I know you are thinking, Reception? Do prisons have carpeted lobbies, with uniformed flunkies and a concierge? Well, uniformed flunkies yes. But the only decoration on the collars of their uniform is dandruff. Some of them look like they have been frosted for Christmas. Head and Shoulders obviously never reached HMP Styal.

No, our reception, like most prisons is a hell hole of lino, over bright fluorescents and barking screws. At this time of day it would be full of lucky discharges, wearing ill fitting clothing, creased and musty from spending an age in a brown cardboard box. Basically, when you enter a prison, everything, including your personality is boxed up and stored away for that distant day when you rejoin the real world.

Actually, as it was a women's prison, we were allowed to wear our own clothes. Nothing flash mind. No designer gear. Tracksuits and hoodies were most popular. No one really wants to stand out. Can be dangerous. The biggest gesture to individuality was the trainers. I liked my Converse, and was on my fourth pair.

Anyway, an hour later and I'm sitting next to a girl who must have been arrested after throwing up. At least that's what her jacket smelt of.

Great.

Me and Miss Vomit sat for over an hour waiting for the fucking screws to get their act together, drink tea and smoke for England before signing themselves and us out. Down the steps we went, into the crisp autumn air, across the yard and into a waiting taxi.

Yeah, a taxi. Although I was still a prisoner, and the handcuff biting into my wrist was evidence of that, as a Cat C, I wasn't considered enough of a risk to warrant a sweat box for transport to the new unit.

The unit was a long, long way away. Fucking miles. Styal is in Cheshire, Larkwood is in South Gloucester. A place called Thornbury.

And Thornbury was a couple of miles from a place I remembered all too well...

Bristol.

Four hours later, I woke from an uneasy sleep, punctuated by images of old faces, people I used to know. On my shoulder was the dribble left there by my travelling companion. I shifted her head sideways abruptly and she woke with a groggy

"Fucks sake Campbell, play nice yeah?"

I ignored her. My attention was more than taken up by where we were. The building we were just pulling up beside was a two storey red brick block. No bars on the windows, but we had just passed through a 20' gate topped by razor wire. No Butlins this then, I thought wryly.

Once inside the depressingly familiar 'Reception' we were quickly processed, searched and trooped across a wide lawn towards another squat block of concrete and brick. At least it was modern, I said to myself. Hot water and decent plumbing at last.

We walked behind the single female screw into a lobby with a wide staircase on either side. Above me I could see lines of doors. All blue, all obviously cells.

The screw smiled at me pleasantly as I frowned at the all too familiar institutional layout.

"Naomi isn't it?" she said and my guard was instantly up. I hadn't been called by my first name for years, certainly not by anyone in uniform

"Err, yeah" I said quietly, not wanting to sound too fuck you, at least until I got the lay of the land.

She smiled again

"Its all first name terms here Naomi. My name is Ellen and I will be your wing officer" She turned her head to my travelling companion and flashed the same smile "And you are Sasha, yes?"

I noticed her nose twitch as she caught the same whiff of stale vomit I had been living with for the past four and a half hours. I'll give her credit, the smile wavered, but she kept it up.

"Both you girls are on my watch. This is Sorrell Wing, and you will be in rooms 212 and 247"

I breathed an internal sigh of relief. At least Miss Vomit was going to be on the other side of the landing to me. I don't do close with other cons. Its dangerous.

After I had been shown to my room, I sat on the bed and looked around me. Well, the furnishing wasn't up to much, but the view from the window was an improvement. Wide, open fields stretched for miles out into the countryside. A low mist hung over what must have been a river. Perhaps this wouldn't be too bad after all.

There was a polite knock on my door, and as I looked up, seeing in passing a handle on the inside (hooray!) a head popped round the door.

It was Ellen, the polite screw.

"Settling in OK?" she said, sounding almost as if she meant it.

"Err, yeah" I said, realising I was repeating my earlier answer. Fucks sake, she will think I'm educationally challenged, I thought.

"Can you be downstairs in two minutes" she asked

I nodded, not wanting to open my mouth and confirm her suspicions

"You have an appointment with the Wing Governor, who will be looking after your welfare and progression towards eventual release on licence"

She saw my brow furrow as I reacted instinctively to the usual management bullshit.

"Actually, you might be pleasantly surprised" she said, the smile slightly more genuine than before

"She doesn't suffer fools, but most of the girls think the sun shines out of her..." she paused

"Anyway" she started to pull her head back, and the last words floated away with her down the landing

"Be outside Miss Fitch's office in two, yes?"

I blinked at the door as it slowly swung closed behind her

Fitch, I thought. Where have I heard that name before?

**A/N**

**Well, I am prepared for brickbats, boos and hisses. But I hope you will like it enough to want to hear more!**

**And if anyone is curious, just let me say I have NO personal experience of being in the Nick! Just a well read mind and some diligent research with a friend of mine who has a brother who is a bit of a Cook!**

**Next chapter is well on the way to being written. Apologies to all Skins and Bad Girls fans. I promise it isn't quite as cut and paste as it looks so far!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you, thank you, thank you. For those people who read and then reviewed. You are the oxygen I need to breathe life into this story. Praise from the awesome Trufreak89 is particularly well received. I have no idea how she comes up with such incredible ideas, but I wish I had 10% of her talent. If you don't believe me, GO READ HER STUFF!**

**So here we go, the story continues...**

Emily:

It took me a few seconds to realise I was actually awake. I waited patiently for the hangover to kick in, but surprisingly, it didn't. Then I remembered. For the first time in months, I had resisted Danny's suggestion that we start Sunday lunch with a few beers. A few beers that led to a bottle of Shiraz over lunch, and usually the best part of a bottle of vodka to finish the afternoon. The normal sequence of events started with him crashing about in the morning, trying to find his rugby kit after a skinful with the lads the night before. I would have the morning and early afternoon to myself, washing, ironing and generally being the dutiful fiancée, by looking after his every need. He would come home after spending an hour or two in the pub. Pissed up and usually sporting some heroic bruises, he would burst in and envelop me in a beery bear hug, I learned to hold my breath while his amorous lips nuzzled my neck. Quite frankly, second hand lager fumes are not the most romantic of scents. Like I said, several beers, glasses and tumblers later, I was normally as pissed as he was, and Sunday night was usually an early one for both of us. Not that that implies any sexual activity. He was asleep and snoring by 8, and I was starting my evening hangover early. Two paracetamol's and a gallon of water later, and I was joining him in the arms of Morpheus.

But today was different. I felt good. Clear headed and ready for the day. One look at the virtual corpse next to me was enough to make me get out of bed rapidly. My wonderful boyfriend/fiancée was on his back, bedclothes thrown to one side. His chest rose and fell in time with some very untuneful snores. I noticed that his face was getting that over florid mottled look I had seen on Saturday night roadside drunks before. The alcohol wasn't making him any more attractive, that's for sure. I looked down his body, seeing the start of a pretty impressive beer belly. And then hanging out of the leg of his shorts was... No fuck it, I've seen enough. No, it sure wasn't a good look for Monday morning.

Grabbing my discarded underwear, I padded to the en suite bathroom and treated myself to a long, hot shower. The needles of water massaged my hair and skin, and 15 minutes later, I was dressed and ready for a busy day. I looked myself up and down in the full length mirror next to the bed. Looking good, Ems, I thought, smirking at my reflection. I was pleased with the new red hair and with my black two piece business suit and matching heels, I looked every inch a professional. I had debated whether to wear a white tee under the jacket, but fuck it. The top buttoned up pretty high, so my black lace bra wasn't on show. In any case, the tan I had spent days cultivating in Sardinia this summer was still good enough to make my skin look great against the wool and silk material. I picked up my black leather briefcase, planted a very light kiss on Danny's cheek, not that he stirred, and walked into the lounge, looking for a coffee to complete my transformation. As I drank the dark, slightly bitter Brazilian, I thought about the way things had been going, and a frown appeared all by itself.

Danny and I were engaged, that's true, and I should have been ecstatic. After all, wasn't that what I had always wanted? Someone to look after me. Having spent 20 years living with my twin sister, I had no experience or desire to live alone. I had met him on a Home Office Conference in Leeds. He was just a plain old DC then, fresh from training, and still walked and talked a bit like the uniform plod he had been for the previous 4 years. I was a first year post graduate on the Home Office Governors IDS fast track. We were both interested in Criminology, which was my degree anyway, and something clicked. 6 months later, we were living together. But if I was honest with myself, something just wasn't right. Several times I had almost plucked up the courage to talk to him about it, but he always knew just the thing to say and do to distract me. Usually alcohol nowadays. Since he had been promoted to DS, his hours at work were longer and longer, and leisure time was being taken up by club rugby and too many nights out with the boys. Sure, I was still his preferred eye candy, and he loved showing me off at Police parties, but I had the distinct impression we were on the down slope of our relationship, and unless I did something about it, I could see a long and unhappy future stretching out before me.

I shook myself out of the introspection as I checked the briefcase for today's agenda. Breakfast meeting with the Number One Governor. That should take no longer than an hour. I had a meeting with the Chaplain at 11, which would give the old perv a thrill, and then office admin until after lunch. New inmate meet and greet at 2, then a tour of the wing with Principal Officer Phelps. That was never a bundle of laughs. He was old school. Lock 'em up and throw away the key. Charming. Unfortunately although he was one of a dying breed, there were quite a few like him at Larkwood. Oh well, as my mother says, little victories, I thought.

I stepped out into the crisp autumn air and breathed in the scent of fallen leaves and damp grass. It was good to be alive, I thought.

My car was parked in its bay, and I allowed myself a satisfied smile as I unlocked it and sat for a second or two, revelling in the new car smell and the soft leather seat. It was my baby. A white Golf Gti with alloys and a fuck off German sound system. It had cost me most of the money my Dad had given to me on graduation plus a shit load of late night working overtime, but she was worth it. Fast, comfortable and a real looker. Does it sound like I'd rather spend a night with her than Danny? Too right!

I drove to the prison with the window open, despite the chill in the air. I was happy ish. Work was going well, my flat was well on the way to being paid for, thanks to Danny's contributions, and I was driving my dream car. What's not to like?

As I pulled into the staff car park, I looked across, through the 20' high fencing to the admin block, with the inmates two storey buildings squatting behind it. I said a small prayer, thanking whoever was looking over me for being in the position I was in now, and not the horror most of the girls and women in those buildings had to endure daily. Sure, they had it much better here than the hell holes they had been in before. Styal, Holloway, there were still lots of Victorian rat holes still operating in today's prison estate, despite the greasy and self serving statements by successive Ministers. I saw the results every day. Broken people. Drug addicts, inadequates. Most of them were repeat offenders, caught in a cycle of abuse and despair.

Don't get me wrong. Even Larkwood had its share of real bastards. Thieves, murderers and sexual predators. But enough about the screws...

I shook off my thoughts, not wanting anything to spoil this day. I was feeling good, sharp and ready for whatever the day could throw at me. Just not over my nice new suit, I thought with a wry inward smile.

The morning passed quickly. The Number One was his usual vague and courteous self. We covered all the inmate movements on my wing, problems, adjudications planned and discharges for that week. Half an hour later I spent my usual 25 minutes with the chaplain while he listed all the issues that had been brought to him over the weekend. Weekends are not a time of rest and relaxation inside. The women have less to do, but that just gives more time for bullying and the odd bit of demanding money with menaces. I had only last week had two of the worst offenders removed back to Cat B at Holloway, but it was never going to be a problem solved, merely delayed. The happy Reverend also liked to look long and hard at women, so the 25 minutes seemed longer. I was briefly cross with myself for not putting on that tee shirt this morning. As he stood to take his leave, his eyes nearly fell into my cleavage. Fucker.

After a lunch of sandwiches and some nice black grapes, I drank my iced water and settled down to deal with the usual mountain of paper on my desk. Prisons live on two things you see. Paper and fear. The two of them are present in large quantities, and never ever get smaller. There were applications for home leave, compassionate leave for funerals and weddings. Applications for visiting orders, private spending money deposits and various other inconsequential issues which usually take up the bulk of my day.

Finally, I pushed the last file to one side and my ever present tame screw Glenda brought me a cup of fruit tea and cleared away the pile. Only one more job today and I was clear for my regular tour with the PO.

There were only two new transfers today. I scanned the first file quickly as I sipped the very welcome brew. Sasha New. Aged 21, serving 2 years for theft and shoplifting. Transferred from Styal. Her file contained the usual formal notes on her history. On the outside she had a pretty severe case of alcoholism. That at least would be on the way to being cured at the moment. Poor girl would have done months of cold turkey in Styal before getting here, so unless she was in with the hard cases and their inevitable home brewed apple and orange head banger juice, she should be OK. I read the rest of her file without much interest. She had 3 months to go until EDP (Earliest Date of Parole) so unless she fucked up royally while she was here, the Parole Board would get her out on licence then. Prison places are at such a premium these days, unless you were a crazy fool, you were shipped back onto the streets as soon as possible, someone else's problem until you ended up back here. Nice world huh?

I picked up the other file with slightly more interest. It was blue unlike the buff folder I had just put in the out tray. Blue was for drug and violence offenders, so I took my time reading the history of this Naomi Campbell.

Naomi Campbell, I thought. Apart from the obvious name check with the nasty model, what else made that name stick out?

I flicked through the prison records. Three and a half years into a 10 year stretch for DDD (Death by Dangerous Driving) and a concurrent 7 years for Possession of Class A drugs. Hmm, I thought. This one will need watching.

The usual formal notes were accompanied by some pretty comprehensive intelligence reports. The sort of reports that, although they are in the file, officially don't exist. Several officers had put in reviews of her behaviour since she had been inside. Uncommunicative, sullen, sarcastic, occasionally violent to other prisoners and staff, Highly intelligent (this note was accompanied by a grudging admiration for her refusal to belong to any of the 'posses' running in Styal. The reports were pretty much similar. A highly intelligent, rude, sarcastic and occasionally violent inmate.

Great. Way to spoil a day, I thought.

It wasn't until I flicked through the file again that I came to the photos. One was a police mugshot, taken just after she was arrested, I guess. Dark hair, eyes ringed with running mascara and a nice shiner just appearing on her left eye. She was looking down, so I didn't really see her features clearly.

The second was the standard Prison mugshot. Over lit and stark, it at least showed that she was a very pretty girl. Still with the dark hair, but the eyes were a flash of pale blue, with dark rings around the iris. She was frowning slightly, but it couldn't hide the attractive shape of her face.

It was the third shot which made me choke on my fruit tea, nearly dribbling over my £300 suit. It must have been taken well before her arrest. Probably pulled from her house when they searched it after the drug find. She looked to be about 14 or 15. No school uniform, but she was dressed in a Meat is Murder tee shirt and red dungaree outfit which screamed, 'Don't Fuck with Me'

I recognised two things different in this picture. One, she had blonde hair, cut in a short bob style. And two, I knew that outfit. In fact I had touched that outfit. Because that was what Naomi Campbell was wearing at that party. The one Katie had dragged me to so that she could spend an hour making out with some spotty youth a year above us in school.

The party where, after drinking too much vodka laced punch in the sweaty, heaving living room, I had escaped to the garden for some air. And the party where, after the briefest of introductions and conversation, I had kissed the face off a blonde girl. Kissed her for nearly a minute, the taste of her strawberry chap stick a memory I had never forgotten. Just like I had never forgotten the pain and humiliation of being discovered snogging another girl by my sister and her latest conquest a minute later.

Fuck, It was THAT Naomi Campbell.

I sat for a few minutes, digesting that thought. Who, why what, how. All the usual questions running through my mind. How the fuck had that beautiful girl ended up in here? I entered my password into the desktop computer beside my blotter and brought up her full written record. Manual files are mandatory in the service, but the new computer system at least had the benefit of background information missing on the paper records.

Naomi Campbell, aged 23, late of Bristol, via Holloway and Styal. Convicted of DDD and possession of Class A drugs after crashing a BMW 6 series into two kids standing at a bus stop at midnight in Bristol City Centre. Must have happened while I was in Manchester, at Uni, I thought. Didn't make the papers there. Just one more tragedy.

Mother, Gina Rose Campbell, still resident in Bristol. I looked at the list of visitors Naomi had been allowed. Her mum appears to have been a regular visitor, wherever she was incarcerated up to last year. Then nothing. Other than that, no other regular visitors.

The psychiatric report stated she showed no remorse for the crime. Said she didn't remember anything about it, other than waking up in the drivers seat with the horn blaring and a crowd of angry people trying to smash their way into the car.

Police report showed that she had several drugs in her system when the PME examined her. Cocaine, MDMA and something else, maybe a sedative, unknown substance to the lab. Added to that, she was over twice the legal alcohol limit.

Fuck, I thought, how did she even start the car, let alone drive it half way across Bristol from the club she had been seen leaving that night?

I looked at my watch and let out a small curse, Damn, it was nearly 2. The two new inmates would be outside my office already, waiting.

I decided to see Sasha New first. Straight forward case, early parole almost certain, just needed to cross the t's and dot the i's. Took me all of 10 minutes out of my allocated 25 minutes per prisoner. As she left my office, I felt a moments nervousness, before giving myself a good talking to.

Fucks sake Emily, I thought. For a start she probably has no idea who you are. It was 9 years ago, you've both changed, and I don't even think she knew my name. She may remember Katie more than me anyway, judging by the shit storm stirred up by "You fucking bitch, lezzing up my SISTER! I'm gonna KILL you" I think were my twins chosen words.

There was a firm tap on my door and I said "Come" as calmly as my heart would allow.

The door opened and Naomi Campbell walked in.

We both looked each other up and down steadily. She had lost weight since the last picture of her had been taken. Slim but not skinny. Although the loose tracksuit bottoms and grey hoodie didn't give any more hints at her shape than that. Her face was the same, just strange to see dark hair instead of the bottle blonde I remembered. Her eyes were still that bright iridescent blue, but she had shadows under them and her skin was typical prison tan. Pale is one thing, but prison, especially a closed prison, gives women a sallow paleness which marks them out easily.

I cleared my throat and spoke

"Hello Naomi. I'm Emily Fitch, your Wing Governor. Take a seat"

At least I managed that without choking, I thought.

"Thanks, I will" she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes

Once we were face to face, I could see bits of the old Naomi in her features. She had suffered, I could see that, and the guarded way she looked at me was typical of a long term prisoner facing officialdom. She wasn't going to give anything away, that's for sure.

"OK, the purpose of this first meeting is to determine a regime and plan for you in preparation for release on licence"

I started to go on, but she raised her hand, and I paused

"Excuse me, miss" she said, politely but definitely

"Is there any point in this conversation?" she grimaced

"I mean, drugs, violence, death...its all in the file I'm sure you've read it" She gestured to the blue folder in front of me.

She continued, while I watched her

"People like me are not usually parole material are we Governor Fitch?" her voice hardened as she emphasised my title.

I looked at her long and hard before answering.

"OK Naomi. You look and sound like someone who likes the unvarnished truth, so here it is"

I looked into her eyes and saw that she was listening

"So the Parole Board is less likely to be easy on you because of all this" I pointed to the file she had been eyeing since she walked in

"But you don't know me, which is why you don't trust me. I get that"

"Just let me explain what we are trying to achieve here, OK?"

She nodded shortly, but at least she was listening.

"Its my job to get you out of here. You may not believe that at the moment, why should you, but ask around. I'm not old school. I believe that there is more to you than meets the eye, and more to you than just a drunk who runs over people after a good night out"

I thought I had gone too far, but after a few seconds, I saw her eyes soften, just a little"

She sat back in the chair, arms folded and flashed me a very small and brief smile. This time it reached her eyes.

"Go ahead, disappoint me" she said, and this time the grin was wider.

"I have no intention of doing that Naomi" I said and tried a smile of my own

"And my name is Emily. At least while we are in this office. Outside I am afraid we are back to formalities"

She shrugged, but her eyes were still on me. Little victories, I thought.

Inside I was mighty relieved. It seemed she had blocked out the memory of our shared snog in that far off garden 9 years before.

Good, I thought. We can keep this on a professional level, and move on.

We covered the paperwork, and set up a schedule of meetings which she had to attend, both group and one to one with me. I gave her a written copy of the dates and times and she looked at it cursorily before slipping it into the pocket of her jacket

"OK" I said, starting to rise from my seat. I looked up and saw that her eyes weren't on my face any more. She was 'doing a vicar' as I called it. Her mouth twisted into a sly smirk as she enjoyed the brown flesh revealed as I leaned forward. My stomach got suddenly heated as I realised she could see the tops of my breasts clearly, enclosed in black lace. I reddened under my tan, cursing myself again for not putting on that tee.

"I'll see you on Wednesday then Naomi" I said in a voice suddenly croaky.

"I'll look forward to seeing more of you Emily" she said, still wearing that interested look"

I blushed a bit deeper and tried to pretend I was shuffling papers as she left the room.

Just as the door was about to close, she poked her head round it and said in a stage whisper

"It was a hell of a snog though, wasn't it?"

I nearly choked on my own spit as I heard her chuckling quietly to herself.

I sat back in my leather chair and looked up at the ceiling. Oh fuck, I thought, and this was gonna be such a good day...

**For those of you who care, I have a few thoughts. First, don't be fooled into thinking this story will blindly follow any plots you have already seen. I have no desire to rehash or even emulate Helen Stewart and Nikki Wade in Bad Girls. I have neither the ability or the wish to to that. I envisage this story being about 10 or 12 chapters, each of about 3000 words. So no extra long episodes, although as I know now, stories seem to have a mind of their own!**

**And there will be smut, or as I prefer to call it, physical activity between willing females. I am not gonna give the game away by saying WHICH females... yet!**

**So please review if you liked it. Flame me at will, although my stock answer to anyone who hates anything I do enough to be rude is to say "You must be mistaking me for someone who cares" ha ha.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

**Again, so many thanks due to my favourite people, just for reading this. I have to give some prior warning that there will be some fairly explicit stuff in this chapter. But its done with hopefully some sensitivity, and as the late Kenny Everett said, "In the best POSSIBLE taste"**

Naomi

I'm standing next to the water. It looks cool and inviting. The trees are swaying in the gentle breeze, below me little ripples ebbing and flowing against the shore.

I look up and shield my eyes from the sun. Its low in the sky, just dipping towards the horizon. Everything around me is peaceful and calm. Its my place. My special place, and this time its not a picture. Its real.

Goosebumps form on my skin, and I wonder why, its not cold. I look down at my arms and notice for the first time that I'm naked. I wonder briefly why, but strangely, it doesn't seem to matter. I sense her before she touches me. A soft delicate smell of an expensive perfume, I don't know what its called. Then I feel her breath on the back of my neck.

"Emily?" I say softly, and I hear her answer with a smile in her voice "Hey you" she says.

She breathes against my neck and again I catch that intoxicating mix of perfume and distinct Emily smell behind me.

I try to turn my head to see her, but she stops me by putting her hand around my waist and resting her head on my shoulder. Her lips, soft and searching, nuzzle my neck and my goosebumps get bigger.

"Look" she says, and this time her husky voice is tinged with something else, desire?

I look at where her hand is pointing and see us reflected in the blue clear water. My mind is telling me that its impossible to see us so clearly in lake water, and strangely, the angle to the surface of the water is obviously all wrong. But I can clearly see me standing in the grass, naked, with a tumble of red hair over my shoulder and her beautiful face smiling at me in the reflection.

A steady pulse of heat travels from my stomach to my centre as she whispers into my ear.

"Just watch, my darling" she says "Let me help you"

I don't seem to be able to move my arms and legs. My eyes blink, but every time I open them the scene is just the same. It can't be a dream, can it?

I feel her warm fingers sliding over my skin. Stroking my waist and stomach, teasing, gentle but insistent. My heart rate and breathing increases as I watch her hand moving on me. Her left hand slides up and captures my breast. Holding it possessively before kneading me steadily. Her thumb catches my erect nipple and I hear myself groan out loud.

"Shhh" she says quietly. "Just watch Naomi"

I can't do anything else, her voice and the sensation of her body pressed against me are paralysing me. I am unable to do anything but feel.

Her left hand continues to caress me, while her open lips allow her tongue to trace a line from my ear to my shoulder. I shudder with the pure erotic sensation it produces in me. I feel the heat between my thighs increase with every slow languorous movement of her hand.

"Let me help you" she whispers again, and this time her right hand moves from my hip and begins to circle my stomach, moving lower inch by inch. I realise I have been holding my breath, watching her hands make love to me, and begin to pant as the tension in my body mounts. She is more insistent now, her knee pushes between my thighs from behind and I feel her fingers right there, where I need them most.

I am thinking that she must be clairvoyant, because she know just how I like to be aroused. Slow sly circles, then an inquisitive finger inside me, gathering moisture before sliding back out and circling me there again. I can hear the small liquid sounds of my arousal now, and, with her other hand pulling at my nipples alternately, I know I won't last very long.

"Please Emily" I gasp, "Let me touch you"

I feel her head shake as she increases her tempo. I arch back towards her. How does she know exactly how to make me come, I think, its almost as if we have done this always.

The muscles in my stomach are fluttering as my orgasm builds. There is no stopping now, my breathing is fast and ragged. I moan again loudly, and she kisses my neck hard, teeth biting into the soft flesh as if to mark me as hers.

"Coming!" I hiss, unable to stop what was happening to me.

"Come for me baby" she says. "Come for me Naomi"

I start to spasm, feeling the fingers inside me curl and massage as I thrash in her arms

I rock in ecstasy, crying out her name aloud

My eyes open, and for a second or two, I wonder where my lake, and more importantly Emily has gone. Its dark. Moonlight shines in through the window across my single bed. I am tangled in the sheets, sweat cooling on my overheated skin. My own fingers still between my legs, wet and warm from what I have just done to myself.

Its as if a heavy black weight has crashed on me. Despair and loneliness washes over me as I realise that it was all imagination. I hadn't touched myself for over 6 months. Another result of prison conditioning. I had denied myself the pleasure exactly because of what I felt like now... after.

Then the tears came. Tears that had been held back for months. Tears of sorrow, tears of loneliness, tears of hatred for myself.

I rolled to the side, away from the window, curling up like a foetus. My head pushed into my pillow so my sobs weren't heard outside me room. For the first time since those terrible early months, I cried for me. Naomi Campbell. Sleep came eventually...

**Phew, I may have to go and adjust myself now... err awkward!**

**This is just a little filler, which apart from being sad and erotic all at once, is necessary to link with Emily's next chapter. Be patient! Ha ha. It will be much longer than this.**

**I have to fly out of the country tomorrow, so the next update will be early next week (unless the hotel has wi-fi, because I will be taking my little net book with me!)**

**Let me know what you think anyway!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well guys (those of you still reading at least) thanks for the positive comments, and I'm glad you found time to review this little story. There is a lot of preamble to go, so I hope you can be patient. I always feel the build up is just as interesting as the almost inevitable horizontal activity, so excuse me if I do this at my leisure (I've always been a girl who likes it long and slow, ha ha) Anyway, I got severely overheated reading Trufreak89's 'Despondent' even if the said horizontal activity was between the 'wrong' couple lol. And re reading Hyper's '6 seater table' was just as stimulating (and funny btw) There are nicer ways to pass 20 minutes, but being single at the moment, the alternative isn't an option!**

Emily s evening

After that last whispered comment from prisoner **F33682 Campbell N**, the day went pretty much to shit. I endured an hour and a half with PO Phelps, touring the Wing and doing some routine cell visits. It went the way it normally did. Because I was with Phelps, the cons clammed up and wouldn't talk, so he had his basic prejudices about moody, uncommunicative criminals reinforced, and I got to stand around like a spare hat stand, not doing much good to anyone.

I was glad to get away, back to my paperwork, which had seemed to miraculously multiply during my wing visit. I was pretty determined to pull a veil over the incident with Naomi, especially given our present positions. Getting over familiar with any prisoner isn't encouraged, and if anyone else found out about our mutual history, even an adolescent snog would be enough to get her ghosted out at the least. She would be back in Styal in hours, and I didn't want that on my conscience. Another 3 years in there would put the lid on her institutional conditioning. Most girls who did the full stretch in a closed prison were back in months.

As I was leaving the wing at 5, I managed to bump into the one person didn't want to of course. She was just leaving the screws glass walled office, and caught my eye as I walked towards the main doors. Ignoring her would have been more noteworthy than not, so I paused and set my face in 'governor mode'

"Hello again Naomi" I said evenly, smiling with my mouth only

Her eyes engaged mine and I felt my mask slipping. God, they were a very attractive blue...

"Hello Governor" she answered, but her smile was genuine and I felt a bit mean at my coldness.

I moved closer, so that the inevitable straining ears around us couldn't make out my next sentence.

"Can you pop into my office tomorrow at 10?" I said quietly "I think we need to discuss certain events, just so we both know where we stand" I smiled again, this time with my eyes too.

I could feel the colour rising in my face as she stood there, just watching my expressions.

"Yes Miss" she said in a mock submissive voice "I am completely at your service"

Her eyes crinkled in amusement at my obvious discomfort. Fuck. She was enjoying this tap dancing around the elephant in the room we had sitting next to us.

I shook myself mentally and tried to retrieve what was a rapidly deteriorating one to one situation. I was conscious that the longer this conversation went on the sappier I looked and the more our screw/prisoner audience would start to suspect something was up.

"OK" I said firmly "10 in my office" and started to walk past her.

She smiled that knowing smile and yet again managed to get in the last word

" Something to look forward to" she said cheekily. And winked.

I glared at her in what I hoped was a definite full stop to her teasing. Unfortunately, I don't think either of us were fooled. Two nil to her, I thought bitterly, as I walked quicker than usual to the block gate and out into the gathering dusk and the relative safety of my car.

My day didn't improve afterwards either. Danny was on a late shift, so at least I got to have a long hot bath and spend a couple of hours in my dressing gown, giving a Galaxy bar some severe mistreatment. A glass or three of the Chablis I had been saving was also a temporary antidote to the feeling I had about events getting way out of control.

Firstly, I told myself sternly, I am Emily Fitch, Wing Governor and career senior civil servant. Secondly, I am used to dealing with all sorts of troublesome prisoners, and staff for that matter. It wouldn't be the first time that I would be the recipient of some unwanted attention. Girls in prison often form attachments to officers and senior staff. You have to remember that affection is something a lot of them never get, inside or out, so when someone is friendly, attentive and, lets face it, I wasn't totally unattractive.. shit happens.

But I had always been the one in total control up to now. Over affectionate staff were easier, my engagement ring and businesslike attitude mostly worked. A few quiet words in senior ears did the trick for continued pestering.

Vulnerable girls and women were handled with more discretion and tact. If they didn't learn after a quiet word, it was simple to transfer the file to another Governor or senior officer. Once you had done it a couple of times, word got about.

But this was altogether different. OK, it was years ago, when I was still working out my sexuality (yeah, and I was **so** in touch with myself on **that** score, wasn't I Emily?) And it was just a kiss (yeah again. A kiss that went on for ages, and would have certainly lead to a lot more mutual exploration if my demonic twin hadn't showed up just at the right/wrong time!)

But I wasn't that person any more, was I? I know I had done my share of experimenting at Uni. Two girls, a total of maybe 5 individual shags. All very exciting at the time, but we grow out of things don't we? Once I met Danny, I had put the girl sex thing out of my mind. Maybe the odd perv at a particularly attractive actress, but definitely no one on one shagging. I am straight, OK?

So why was it that I was spending a whole chunk of 'me' time thinking about the damaged girl who was teasing me for all she was worth , all over one stolen kiss?

I was determined to put a lid on it tomorrow. A conversation without innuendo, straight to the point, if polite. I wasn't interested in playing word games with a convicted killer with a predilection for expensive designer drugs and a preference for smartly dressed female Governors. Right. That's it. End of... Otherwise, ship out or transfer. Best all round, better for both of us. New start etc etc...

I started to wake up on the sofa sometime later. The wine had had more effect that I had intended it to. My head was fuzzy and to be honest I wasn't sure I was even awake. I felt dream like and floaty. Must have been the Galaxy, damn chocolate.

I felt too warm and in the near pitch darkness, I slipped my dressing gown off my shoulders, letting the cool air from the partially open window lower my temperature. I could feel my nipples erecting at the abrupt change, but it wasn't unpleasant, more stimulating really. I mean, I hadn't, _you know_, for weeks. Danny was usually too drunk or tired to try to talk me into anything mutual, and to be honest, I was more relieved than frustrated on that score. Bit of a wham bam man really. His clumsy attempts at oral pleasure were so amateurish, it was laughable. I had tried, in the early days to give him some self taught tips (thanks to some very enjoyable experiences with that girl at Uni – Sarah, wasn't it?) but he was impatient, and usually moved his mouth/tongue/fingers, whatever, just at the moment I was starting to get into the mood. It was simpler to let him climb on me and finish, so I could get some sleep. Romantic huh?

But in this dream like state, I was starting to reshow those old mental home movies, I had used for years to get off. So who would be the star of my show tonight, I mused, as I trickled my finger tips across the tips of my nipples, making them hard and responsive in seconds. I haven't got big tits, but I like what I have, small, firm and round, they suit me (modest, much?)

Anyway, a minute or so of cupping and playing with them made my mind up. I could see the green glow of the clock face on the cooker through the kitchen door from my position on the couch. It was 11.45pm. Danny didn't get off till 12.30 and I planned to get off well before that! I grinned to myself at that thought. Wicked me. Emily Fitch, half naked on the sofa, squeezing my tits like a sex starved con, and planning much more fun in the next few minutes.

I slipped the cotton belt from my waist and allowed the robe to fall fully open, and slid round until I was on my back. I smirked again. If Danny were watching this, even his crayola dick would be paying attention. But enough about him. There was no way I was gonna achieve any satisfaction weaving a sex fantasy around my fiancée...

I settled back and made lazy circles on my stomach, relishing the feel of my fingers on my freshly bathed skin. I smelt good, and was starting to smell faintly like sex. That was unexpectedly nice...

A few more minutes of that, and I found my mind wandering to previous sexual encounters, always a good way to bring things to a climax pretty quickly. Sarah's long blonde hair swam across my minds eye. That pony tail, that clever tongue. I groaned at the memory of her head moving between my legs. Warm wet sensations and those athletes hands pushing my legs open to give her better access. I arched back and allowed my legs to spread wide. God, I was getting turned on. I slipped a finger between my legs and began to make smaller lazy circles, this time in one particular place. I could hear the small liquid sounds of my increasing arousal. This was not going to take long.

My left hand continued to knead my breasts and my middle finger slipped in and out, then round and round. My breathing got fast and ragged pretty quickly after that. A kaleidoscope of sexual images rotated in my overheated imagination. Sarah's face, down there, licking me frantically, eyes fixed on my changing expressions. The other girl at Uni, Zoe?. She liked to tie my hands to the bed rail with silk scarves before fucking the shit out of me with straight fingered eagerness. I bucked and writhed as the images blended and increased in wildness. Hot kisses, heavy breasts flat against my own, urgent cries and beautiful filth being whispered in my ear. I'm such a pushover for dirty talk...

I started to get there, and my fingers increased speed. My other hand joined it, pressing straight fingers inside as I circled and teased with the other. Another image blasted out of my imagination searing my brain with its simplicity and power. Naomi Campbell, blonde and naked, breasts swaying, kneeling over me. That knowing smile on her face, her hands all over and most importantly, inside me. I lost it then. I pumped my hips up to meet my fingers and cried out louder than I had ever done during sex, with or without a partner present.

"Oh Jesus" I moaned "_**Naomi**_ baby, I'm coming"

And I did. So hard and so long that I was completely exhausted afterwards, unable to do anything other than curl up on one side and rock myself gently. The aftershocks still making my muscles jump and my thighs clench...

"Oh shit" I remember thinking, "I'm in serious trouble here"

Just how much trouble I was about to find out.

The front door slammed open and hit the wall. A slightly drunk but very agitated Danny stumbled across the carpet towards me, his uneaten lamb kebab spilling onto the floor as he reached me. The gamy smell nearly made me gag as I looked up at his red and sweating face. Luckily I had at least covered myself with the robe, even if the belt laid on the floor beside the couch. I looked into his eyes and wondered how much he had heard.

Enough I guess

"Who the _fuck_ is Naomi?" he said through gritted teeth, eyes hunting the room for my phantom lover

"I'm screwed" I thought. "How am I gonna talk myself out of this?" I had a feeling Danny and I would be up late tonight. A long conversation about our relationship status was well overdue...

**Thanks for reading, if anyone has been. Hopefully I can now move on to matters more pertinent to the actual fucking plot I have in my head. Why why why, as James Fitch so memorably put it, can I not imagine these two without rampant sex shoehorning into the chapters. Cold shower and more plot development Nancy, I hear you say. Quite right, although after re reading Hyper's IHAFICC, I think rampant sex is well undervalued. God, that lady can write enthralling plots laced with toe curlingly good shagging!**

**See you on the other side. Review, damn you, ha ha.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**

**Well thanks to my wonderful reviewers, I am energised enough to post a reasonably quick update. I have been in Krakow for a long weekend (more like a week really) so updating has been awkward. Sharing a room with a (very) curious female colleague has been difficult. My little net book, which is all I can take given Ryanairs ridiculous baggage allowances (I hate you Mr O Leary!) is hard enough to type on at the best of times, but with a middle aged overweight woman breathing over my shoulder as I try to put in words the pre and post orgasmic thoughts of Naomi and Emily...it was err... frustrating.**

**Anyway, now on the ancient desktop I am glad I kept alive at home, I am back and trying to unravel the thoughts and daydreams I had abroad. If some of the sightseers at Wawel Castle had been able to see into my head.. I was definitely NOT thinking about 14th century architecture :) So enough babble Nancy, on with the plot.**

Naomi

After my somewhat 'stimulating' dream last night, and those two brief conversations with Emily Fitch, I woke a little groggy and confused in my single bed. The sheet was tightly wound round me and the pillow still damp from my crying jag. I also felt tender between my legs, OK, it wasn't the most unpleasant feeling tbh, but the confident, teasing way I had dealt with my Wing Governor was gone. If only she knew how uncertain and fragile I really was. Cultivating a hard and sarcastic exterior was my only weapon in here, and three and a half years hones that shell to shiny, metallic hardness. To the staff and cons I was fuck off Campbell, stony eyed, sarcastic to the point of rudeness and with no discernible weaknesses. Ho fucking ho, I thought. If they could have seen me last night. First giving myself a good seeing to over a woman I didn't know, and had only physically touched once in the dim distant past, then crying like a first night virgin in a harem. I mentally prepared myself, as the unmistakeable sounds of a prison waking up grew in volume outside my door.

I opened the window, hoping to remove any traces of my recent sexual activity, dragged on my trackies and tee then took a deep breath before stepping out onto the landing. The usual queue for the wash room snaked away from me and I braced myself for the normal chaos and idle chatter. There were only a few sneaky glances my way from curious cons. Curiosity is frowned on in here. Friendships take months or years to mature. Suspicion is everywhere, so I kept my head down and waited patiently for my turn at the shower.

After I had overstayed my time under the mercifully hot and needle hard water jets, I felt a bit more like myself. Returning to my 'room' I dressed quickly in clean underwear and a tight white tee and jeans, then pulled on my red Converse and sat on my bed, deciding whether I could face the prisons morning haute cuisine. Shaking my head at the stale smell of bacon frying from the dining room on the ground floor, I settled for coffee and some Garibaldi biscuits I had brought with me from Styal. My own favourite brand of Brazilian coffee, hot strong and sugary, pepped me up no end, so when a tentative knock came at the door, I stood and opened it quickly.

There was a small, fair haired girl standing there. Very pretty in a gamin, elfish way. Force of habit drove me to check out her tits. In my other life, when I was prowling nightclubs with Cook, deciding who he and I would shag tonight, (Oh, don't get me wrong, not together, I hasten to add. Threesomes with Cook would be vomit inducing) she would have definitely been on my radar. A nice body. Skinny but with quite big tits, and a smile that lit up my cell. Fuck me, I thought. I would have had you for breakfast, lunch and dinner back in the day, and come back for seconds.

Her smile wavered slightly as she saw me blatantly checking her out, but it stayed on her face, just. I allowed myself one last glance at those impressive tits before dragging my eyes up again to meet hers. Jesus, Campbell, I mentally slapped myself around the head, one night with your favourite middle finger and the old libido is back in overdrive. I forced a tight smile and waited for her to speak.

"Hi" she said in a quiet voice "Its Naomi, isn't it?"

I nodded, waiting for the sales pitch.

"I'm Ellie, I'm in 410, next door but one"

"And?" I said, never one to make life easy for anyone I met for the first time

She blinked at that, but to her credit, carried on

"Ermm, I do the girls hair in here. I have a sort of half arsed salon downstairs. The screws let me keep my hand in, seeings as I was a stylist outside"

"Do I look like I need a fucking blow dry?" I growled, getting tired of being polite for its own sake.

She smiled a tiny, genuine smile, despite my hostility, and spoke again, this time with more certainty, and a trace of defiance

"Actually, you do" she grinned " You look like microwaved shit to be honest"

As my eyes narrowed and I started to move closer, with every intention of throwing her out physically if need be, she stood her ground

I'll give her 10 out of 10 for cojones, I was 6 inches taller than her, and a good 15 kilos heavier, but she stood firm.

Her head tipped up as I invaded her personal space, and I grinned despite myself at her lack of fear. She looked me in the eyes and spoke directly.

"Look, most girls who get here have shitty hair. Its all about where you've come from, nothing personal"

She reached up and ran her fingers through my shoulder length brown hair, tutting at the split ends and general run down condition.

"I think you would look stunning as a platinum blonde" she said, almost to herself "It would suit you, don't you think?"

I didn't think, I fucking knew. Back in the day, my bottle blonde tresses and sarky chat up lines had lured many a straight girl into a little experimenting. If I had a pound for every time some pissed up hetero random had allowed me to separate her from the herd like a lion selecting a kill and submit to some serious girl on girl love against the wall of some anonymous club, I wouldn't need prison wages, I would be minted. I should have been on commission from Victories Secret, the number of thongs I ruined most weekends.

But actually, this little hottie was giving me an idea. I hadn't been blonde since I got arrested. Gradually my hair had reverted to its natural brown, and I had allowed myself to fade with the dye into a more anonymous, less vibrant me.

Fuck it. She was cute, and I deserved a treat, especially as Miss fucking Fitch seemed immune to my charm, such as it is.

I still towered over the girl, but she wasn't backing away, and those tits certainly were mouth watering. I risked another perv, and this time her eyes followed mine down between us until we were like mirror images, muff monkeys united in admiration for the delights of the female form.

I saw her lips twitch, and she looked back up at me with more than a trace of heat.

"If you'd just let me do you, I'm sure you'd be happy with the result" She smirked shamelessly

I couldn't help it, I laughed out loud at the deliberate double entendre.

"I'm sure I would be putty in your hands" I sniggered. This was actually fun. I hadn't flirted in ages. Fucking Governor Fitch was hard work compared to this fun bunny.

"OK, how about after morning work? Say 11.30. Its the room at the end of the block, just behind the cleaners cupboard"

I nodded, still smiling at her cheeky persistence. "What's it gonna cost me then Ellie?"

"Oh, I'm sure we could work that out later" she grinned "After all we are neighbours, and when the screws go off at ten, who knows what could happen after lights out"

I swallowed hard at her blatant come on and we did a bit more eye fucking before she left and I had the room to myself again.

I sat on my bed and mulled over what had just happened. Things were certainly looking up. The girl I had mooned and sulked over for months after that brief but intense kiss had turned out to be my personal Governor, and now this cute love bunny was giving me the most outrageous come on possible. If I couldn't get my hands into Emily Fitches knickers, I think Ellies would be the self lowering type. This place was definitely more fun than Styal!

An hour later, 'breakfast' over with, I was sitting on one of the 6 chairs placed along the wall outside the governors office. The big station clock on the opposite wall said 9.56 and I waited impatiently for our 'clear the air talk' After all, I now had an appointment with a dead cert at 11.30, didn't I?

I heard her before I saw her. Expensive black heels clicked quickly on the shiny floor as she tripped delicately along the wing towards her office. I noticed her face was a little flushed, but I put that down to her being a little late. She didn't glance my way as she unlocked her office door, and let it close firmly behind her. I was still sitting there at 10 past, and to be honest, was just getting to the 'fuck this, I'm off' stage, when the door opened and she beckoned me inside.

As I entered, she had her back to me, and it wasn't until I was sitting opposite her that I noticed. Her eyes were red rimmed, and she had definitely been crying. I wasn't expecting that. So just stared at her like a fucking loon, with my mouth open. Way to go, Campbell, the village idiot look is so attractive, I scolded myself, shutting my mouth with an audible slap.

Suddenly my appointment with the clitoral hairdresser didn't seem so urgent. What was making 'Miss Professional of the Year 2012' so unhappy that she had brought it to work, I thought.

"Right Naomi" Emily said in a voice that screamed unhappy "We need to sort this out before you get hurt"

Fat chance, I thought. I don't do hurt. I dish it out.

"First, any personal communication between us, apart from the facts of your imprisonment and the plan for your early release are definitely out of bounds. Do we understand each other?"

I stared at her stonily, not giving any sign that I agreed or disagreed.

"Secondly, the fact that we shared a.".. and she hunted for the right words "moment as teenagers, is not relevant to the present situation"

I am your Senior Care Officer, and as such, I have to remain reasonably impersonal. Its not that I don't like you Naomi, but we definitely have to have boundaries. And teasing me about a momentary episode in the dim distant past is not the type of conversation I want to be having with an inmate, clear?"

I flinched at the 'inmate' label. I thought that was the point of this place, no more pigeon holes?

"Fine" I said through gritted teeth. "That suits me fine Miss Fitch"

"I said it's Emily in this office" she said, her face softening a little

"No thanks" I said in a level voice "Miss Fitch suits me better, Governor"

She nodded and shuffled some papers on her desk. I looked at her hands as they idly rearranged files and then I saw it. The pale band of skin on her ring finger. Fuck me, she's taken off her engagement ring, I thought. So that's what the red eyes are all about.

She saw me looking, but ducked her head and avoided my eyes.

"That will be all Naomi" she said to her blotter. "Oh, and I've arranged for you to work in the library, assisting Barbara, who is due for release in two weeks"

"That will give you the chance, after morning work, to carry on with your OU studies, and after Barbara is discharged, you will carry on her library duties"

To be honest, I wasn't expecting that plum job, especially as I had only just arrived. Library jobs are like fucking gold dust in here. I would be about as popular as a fart in a spacesuit with my fellow cons for getting that job straight off the bus.

So she was blanking me, but giving me a job it usually takes years to get. Fucking woman, I couldn't work her out. I stared at the top of her head, drinking in the sight of those lustrous red waves, but still stinging for her coldness towards me.

I stood after a couple more seconds, the silence in the room was oppressive. But being me, I just had to have the last word.

"Oh, Miss Finch" I said "Who do I need to speak to about a change in appearance

She looked up then, and even with the red rims, her dark eyes were pretty fucking amazing

"What change of appearance?" she said quietly

"Permission to have my hair coloured?" I said

"What colour?" she said even more quietly, and I knew she knew, even before I opened my mouth

"Platinum blonde Miss" I smiled ruthlessly at her discomfort "It used to suit me before"

I saw her throat move as she swallowed and knew I had scored a bullseye. We were both remembering a warm summer night, a garden and a kiss that set the world on fire.

"Permission granted Naomi" she said finally, but I heard the catch in her voice, it was small comfort, but I hung on to it as I left the office.

Two hours later, and with the very pleasant memory of Ellie taking some spectacular physical liberties when washing my hair, before dying and cutting it into a very accurate copy of my old style. Shoulder length, gently curling round my face and shiny platinum blonde. I liked what I saw in the mirror, and so did Ellie. I practically had to fight her off before I left the 'salon' and went back to my room.

By five, after tea, I was standing on the landing, leaning over to watch the ground floor world go by. Screws and cons weaved around each other, like ants going about their busy little lives oblivious to each other. I felt her before I saw her. The door to the Wing Office opened and Emily emerged. I knew she would look up, and she did. Just in time to see Ellie sidle up beside me and place a proprietary arm around my waist and lean her small head against my arm. Those big tits were pressing very pleasantly against the bare skin of my upper arm, and I knew if I wanted it, some serious girl loving was on offer.

I couldn't resist it. With one eye on Emily's upturned face, I slid my own arm around Ellies waist and whispered "I'm going to fuck your brains out tonight" into her ear. She giggled deliciously, and squeezed me harder.

Emily held my eyes for a long second, then bowed her pretty head and almost ran along the corridor to the exit door.

I felt a real pang of regret, and made to untangle myself from my new conquest, but Ellie was stronger than she looked.

"I don't think I can wait" she growled sexily "I know a place, come on"

As the outer door clanged shut with Emily the other side of it, I gave in to my rumbling libido and allowed Ellie to lead me away...

**Hope you like it so far... Review, review! Ha ha**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**

**Thanks again for the insightful and positive reviews. The fact that people who have written their own vastly superior stories on here find the time to read and comment on mine is humbling.**

**Well Naoms is about to get her celibacy terminated, but I think there may be trouble ahead, just saying...**

**Poor Emily is in a hard place right now, but maybe things will get better in the near future huh? As if I don't KNOW ha ha**

Emily

Fucking hell, I just made it out of the gates before my eyes filled with even more tears. I didn't think I had any left after the two hour endurance test with Danny last night. He called me frigid, a whore and a dyke. I don't really know how I can be all three, but in my post orgasmic haze, I found it difficult to defend myself. OK, there was no actual Naomi hiding under the bed, but the words he had heard whilst fumbling with his keys outside the flat could not be taken back.

I can't say he had ever actually heard me come (at least a REAL one), but right enough, even in a drunken haze, he recognised the sounds I was making. I think he was a little disappointed that he hadn't found me naked with a girl between my legs. The old girl/girl/male threesome fantasy is hard wired into men I think. But after he had raved at me for what seemed like hours, I pulled myself together, got up, and sat opposite him. We talked, or rather I talked and he sat there with a silly open mouthed expression on his face as I pushed home some very overdue home truths. Fact is I didn't love him, If I ever had. Being together was just like pulling on a familiar old jumper, convenient but very unexciting. It was time to end it, best for both of us, its not you, its me. You get the picture. Cue another rant which I listened to with half an ear whilst doing a silent inventory of the fixtures and fittings in the apartment. Cold, you think? Honestly, all I felt was relief that something had brought this crazy situation to a head. I was tired of playing the dutiful and submissive fiancée. Its over, I told him. Lets move on.

At last he shrugged his shoulders in resignation, after one last appeal for us to try again. I shook my head sadly. I think he knew then it was really finished. I went into the bathroom to wash my face and soothe my stinging eyes. I could hear him crashing about, mumbling to himself while I did it. I sat on the edge of the bath, bathrobe hugged around me, my head pounding with a stress headache until I heard the front door slam. I did cry some bitter tears, but truth told, they were for me, not him.

When I eventually came out, his key was on the hall table and it looked like someone had thrown a hand grenade in the living room. The CD collection was on the floor, all his favourite heavy rock band discs gone, mine scattered around. The photo of us together in happier days in Sardinia was smashed and torn on the couch. I went into the bedroom to find a similar scene. The duvet on the floor, sheets ripped and discarded beside it. Drawers hung open and his clothes were gone. On the mirror opposite the bed, in my best red fucking lipstick, the words _**WHORE**_ and _**DYKE **_looked back at me. Actually that was the best thing he could have done. I looked at the words and smiled to myself, finally after all the tears, something I could hate him for. No. not hate, pity more like. Whore, no. Dyke, just maybe. I rubbed out the first word, but decided to leave the other there, just for now. Then I changed my mind. Rubbed out Dyke and lipsticked on a better word, _**GAY. **_There, that looked a whole lot better. I smiled at my own reflection and finally admitted what had probably been fucking obvious for years.

Realisation flooded my fried brain as the sensation of, I don't know, calm settled on me. I sat on the ruined bed and looked again at the word on my mirror. Sarah, Zoe, Emma Watson (OK, the last one I haven't actually shagged, but I sure wanted to) and one other name flashed up in my minds eye in red and glowing neon. The one that I had experimented with, the kiss that had stayed with me for 9 years. The girl I was so desperate NOT to get involved with, for all the right reasons. Naomi fucking Campbell. Prisoner of Larkwood Jail, my responsibility, my charge. And as I sat there thinking about her beautiful eyes I realised, she had been my fantasy girl always. Shit, I am in real trouble now, I thought for the second time tonight.

After a few more minutes of introspection, I shook myself mentally and the old analytical Emily took charge once again. Fuck it. Naomi wasn't mine, would never be mine. Even as I sat here in the debris of my former life, she was shagging that girl Ellie senseless on a prison bed. So much for mutual attraction, doomed though it was to endless frustration. I wasn't going to ruin my life over her.

I thought about ringing Katie, but decided not to for two good reasons. One, she was in New York, being paraded around the hot spots by her latest designer boyfriend, and two, I didn't do the twin thing nowadays. We had been shoehorned together for over 20 years, first as kids, then as teenagers, and I had no wish to revisit that submissive younger twin hell. She would only shout at me for being a fucking idiot, giving up a 'perfectly good boyfriend' as she called Danny. Oh, and as he was one of her exes too (I had no idea until I made the mistake of taking him home for one of the Fitches famous 6 seater table dinners) I really didn't want her pity either.

Nope. What I needed was company. I had no more shifts till Sunday afternoon, so I could go out, get pissed and if I got lucky and ended up in a strangers bed, so much the better. It would be a female strangers bed, I knew that now. Suddenly it all became clear in my mind. I suppose I could at least thank fucking Naomi for that particular personal revelation.

I showered quickly and as I was getting dressed, picked up my mobile and dialled a number I hadn't rung for over a year. I suppose that was ridiculously optimistic of me. She probably didn't even remember my name. Oh fuck it, what have I got to lose. The phone rang for a minute, and I was just about to hang up before her voice-mail kicked in when it was answered.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end said uncertainly "Is that.. Emily?"

Someone's still got my contact name on her phone, I thought with some satisfaction.

"Yeah" I said. "Do you fancy going somewhere?" the phone went quiet, and I thought for a moment I had been cut off.

"Where?" she said

"Anywhere" I answered, not knowing what else to say.

"Sure" she said "Pick you up at 8? Still in the same flat Emily?"

I nodded, then realised that was a fucking stupid thing to do on a phone

"Yeah, same flat, same fucking life" My voice must have sounded really desperate because there was another silence before she spoke again.

"Are you OK, honey?"

I flinched a bit at that. I wasn't anyone's honey at the moment.

"Yeah" I lied, unconvincingly "Just a bit down. Need cheering up to be honest"

"I know just what you need" she said, her voice dropping to a low growl. I shivered at her unsubtle come on.

"Maybe that's what I do need" I said, and maybe I did.

"See you at 8, then Emily" she said, seemingly not wanting the call to end.

"OK, 8 it is. Where are we going?" I asked

"To drink ourselves crazy, dance ourselves dizzy and then maybe, if you really mean it this time, maybe fuck ourselves senseless?" She chuckled dirtily and my skin goose-bumped at the dark promise of her words.

"You may just get your wish this time" I said, with more bravado than I felt.

"See you soon, Sophia"

I clicked off the button and threw the phone on my bed. Opening my wardrobe, luckily undamaged from last nights shit storm, I debated what to wear. Something sexy, I think . I really DID need cheering up, and Sophia Moore had been gagging to get into my knickers since that open day at Goldsmiths three years ago. She hadn't managed it then, mainly because I bottled it, but we had sure kissed the hell out of each other on the train ride home. I'd been fending her off ever since, even after Danny and I got engaged.

I finally decided on that blue slash top dress I had never been brave enough to wear before. I had picked it out on a shopping trip to London, fuelled by too much lunchtime vodka and Cranberry juice, and apart from admiring myself in the Oxford Street changing room mirror, it had never been off the hanger. Electric blue silk, with one bare shoulder and a gold buckle holding it tight to my body. A good 6" above my knee, it certainly showed a lot of flesh, and I wondered what the hell I could wear underneath it. A sly smile crept over my face as I looked at it pressed against me in the mirror.

In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought.

After a long second shower and some expensive body lotion, I slipped on my smallest and tightest blue thong. No bra. My tits have always been perky, even since I hit my 20's so I could certainly carry it off. The dress was tight enough to hold them in a bit, but there was enough movement to leave no doubt that they were naked underneath.

I spun round in front of my full length bedroom mirror and laughed out loud. Eat your heart out Naomi Campbell, I thought, Emily Fitch is out on the town and loving it! A small frown crossed my face as I thought for a fraction of a second of her naked and writhing on a bed with Ellie, but I wasn't going to let her spoil tonight. No ma'am

A couple of squirts of Issy Miyaki, my small gold Rolex on my wrist and a thin gold chain around my neck was all I needed to complete the perfect image (well, perfect for me anyhow) My tan was still good enough to avoid tights, and this weeks visits to the salon had touched up my red hair colouring. Sophia, I thought, you are such a lucky girl tonight.

Eight o clock came round just in time for me to swallow in one go a Dutch courage straight double vodka and quickly clean my teeth again before the street door chimes made me jump like startled rabbit. I checked myself once more in the hall mirror, before picking up my bag and keys and closing the flat door behind me as I walked to the lift along the thick corridor carpet. The lift descended and my tits bounced nicely under the thin material. I smirked at myself in the wall mirror.

As the lift doors opened on the ground floor, I was greeted by Sophia, in a figure hugging black mini dress with spaghetti straps, which matched perfectly her long black hair. Her big blue eyes widened as she looked me up and down, and a very unladylike wolf whistle echoed in the lobby.

"Wow, Emily" she breathed, still eye fucking me like crazy "Is that all for me?" I could feel her eyes drinking me in, and they certainly lingered on my boobs for longer than necessary. I could feel my nipples harden as the combination of cool air and her scrutiny crinkled them up a treat. I wondered for a nanosecond if this was really a good idea, she was practically drooling on the carpet, but what the fuck. Naomi Campbell wasn't the only one who could get laid at will, right?

The first half of the night passed quickly. We went to a small Italian restaurant, which was walking distance from my flat and had a simple but tasty pasta veggie meal. All washed down with some really fruity Chianti. By the time the tiramasu was being served I was well on the way to total inhibition loss . Sophia was being very attentive, pouring my drinks and generally being funny and adoring. We were getting quite a few looks from the waiters and customers alike. Italian waiters generally are completely puzzled by gay girls, especially if they are both young and reasonably attractive. Its an affront to their masculinity, I think. Two girls, hanging across the table, touching fingers and whispering to each other is something they struggle to deal with. I could feel the waves of disapproval coming off them every time they passed the table, but to be honest, it just made us behave more outrageously. By the time the bill came, Sophia was almost in my lap, she was that close, so with reluctance, we paid the maître D and left a deliberately small and insulting tip, before asking them to call us a cab.

The taxi dropped us outside the new bar near the dock, Smoking Joe's, and we queue jumped thanks to Sophia's whispered conversation with the gorilla in a dinner jacket on the door.

Three more large vodka and Cranberry juices later, I was feeling absolutely no pain. We pushed through the heaving crowd of girls, and oh yeah, I forgot to mention it was quite obviously a gay club. The few guys on the floor were dressed even more flamboyantly than us, so I think I would be safe in saying we were definitely not the campest guests here tonight.

Some heavy duty whirling about to the ear bending techno beat only lasted 10 minutes or so. We were definitely overdressed for the moshpit atmosphere, so it was a relief when we were steered to a private booth by another uniformed gorilla, who answered Sophia's non verbal signal as we walked off the floor. A few randoms glared at us as we yet again queue jumped to get a booth, but whatever favours Sophia was offering to get us preferential treatment, I would lay odds it wasn't a complimentary blow job. She was definitely batting for my side tonight, and as far as I knew always had.

Yet another vodka and Cranberry appeared via a flustered waitress in a very attractive tight white tee and sprayed on blue skinny's. I felt my face go red as Sophia grinned at my blatant interest.

"Oi!" she said in a mock offended voice "You're supposed to be looking at MY assets tonight Fitch"

To emphasise what she was saying, she leaned forward with her arms on the table and her very pretty tits pushed up inside her dress, threatening to spill out altogether. Although her skin was pale compared to mine, I was temporarily mesmerised by the smooth flesh on show. I moistened my lips with my tongue unconsciously as I flat out perved on her, waitress well forgotten.

Sophia grinned again, but this time her hand slid under the table and rested on my upper thigh as she leaned closer, the alcohol on her breath strangely not unpleasant to me.

"Lets have one more drink, then I think I should get you home Cinderella" she whispered

"I don't think you will turn into a pumpkin, but just in case, I think you are wearing far too many clothes. I may just have to find out what that fabulous body looks like naked at last"

I didn't need subtlety, and I didn't get it. The ride home in the cab was short but intense. The fat perspiring taxi driver had a fare he would be wanking over for weeks, I reckon. Her hands were all over me outside and inside my new dress, and both our supposedly smear proof lipstick was definitely falling down on the job after some heavy duty girl snogging.

We stumbled inside, me trying to keep my balance as she groped and kissed me all the way up in the lift and down the carpeted corridor to my flat.

As soon as the door closed behind us she popped the clasp on my dress, and it fell to my feet in a puddle of blue silk. Her eyes widened as she looked up and down my body. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to talk, and I put my finger out, sealing her lips before she could say anything

"Just take me to bed, OK?" I breathed

She nodded dumbly and reached out a hand, taking mine before leading me into my own bedroom. She spun me around until my knees collided with the edge of the mattress and we both fell backwards, her on top. Her kisses were driving me wild. Light feathery ones on my neck and shoulders. Hotter wetter ones on my face and lips. I could feel the heat between my legs start to overpower me as she moved down my body. I looked up at the ceiling as she stripped my tiny thong off and slipped my thighs over her still dressed shoulders. Her hands held my thighs apart and I could feel her hot breath on me between my legs.

"Please" I said simply "Oh God, please do it"

Even in the half light of the bedroom I could see a faintly predatory smile on her face as she looked up at me, a second before her lips closed over my sex and her tongue began to work its long wet magic.

Her hand moved upwards, cupping my tits and massaging them with practised ease. All the time her mouth worked on me and I writhed and bucked under her helplessly. It didn't take long. It never seemed to when a girl was loving me like this. All too soon, I felt myself thrusting up harder at her mouth, holding her long hair in my hands and forcing her deeper into me. One of her hands left my breast and slid between my thighs. A long slim finger slid wetly into me, curled backwards, and I was done... I cried out then, once, twice, three times, moaning my release to a ceiling which had rarely felt that much volume.

I think the neighbours must have believed I had found religion, judging by the number of times I called on God that night.

Soon enough, I pushed her head away, the sensations too much and my sensitive clit just too tender to stand any more friction. She looked up at me as I panted and shuddered through the aftershocks.

"I've always wanted to do that to you, you know that, don't you" she said in a voice throbbing with lust

"I know" I said .

"I want to, as well..." I managed to croak, before pulling her up and over me, so that she laid by my side. My hands began to strip the black dress from her. I looked into her face and her expression was strange, almost triumphant. I felt a little twinge of doubt then, but then she was insistent, pushing my head lower, between her long pale open thighs.

What's a girl gonna do, I thought, as my mouth closed over the heat between her legs. Its not as if I dislike doing this, after all. Quite the contrary.

I started to work on her...She didn't take long either. Soon more holy enquiries echoed in the room.

Later, as we lay there, me sated and drowsy, she quickly asleep, the doubts came back. I had loved the sex, I always did with a girl. But something was missing. For fucks sake Emily, I scolded myself. A beautiful, willing girl has just gone down on you and made you come so hard you almost passed out. What's not to like?

_Simple_, a traitorous little voice whispered in my ear. _Her names not Naomi, is it?_

I rolled over, away from my gently snoring bedmate. Suddenly I didn't feel quite so satisfied...

**That's another one done for my favourite reviewers and anyone else following the story. There will be more later in the week. Maybe a chapter with Naomi's night of passion, then back to something approximating a plot huh?**

**If I didn't know you enjoy a bit of smut as much as me, I may just go away and write a dictionary! Ha ha**

**Review, you know it makes sense!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**

**So... you guys like a bit of smut... big surprise ha ha. Reading about our Ems and Naoms doing the horizontal rhumba is just as stimulating for me, I promise. But with the right partner huh? Like each other? It should happen, it ought to happen, but I haven't really made my mind up yet. Sexual favours may persuade me, just saying like! Applications via PM ;)**

**Anyway patience is a virtue, which is f'kin hilarious coming from me. I have none at all when it comes to getting to the nitty gritty, personally. (Oh shit, your secrets out, Nance) So, I have no desire to make 'em wait unnecessarily, but I feel I owe it to you guys, especially my loyal and infallibly perceptive reviewers. Unfulfilled lust is so shiver inducing, don't you think? **

**To those of you who read and don't review, I can only say, come on in, the waters lovely!**

**On we go...**

Naomi

Do you remember when you were a kid and you discovered something which was your all time, never to be replaced, favourite? Like Ben & Jerry's Phishfood, or Pop Tarts? Like you craved it, and ate it for months until finally you couldn't stand it ever again. When you grow up a bit, its usually one type of alcohol. Like that time I went to Spain with two mates and got sunburned feet on the beach. Result = One bottle of neat Pernod drunk in 12 hours to ease the pain.

I've never touched it since. The smell makes me gag.

Well, welcome to sex hell...

Since that little balcony scene to show off my platinum tresses to Emily, and the added matinee of Ellie and me doing the '_Look at me, I'm attractive and can get a girl. Who needs __**you**__?' _scene, I have decided that unlimited sex may not be all its cracked up to be. OK, the initial frantic shag in the corner shower straight after Emily fled for the exit was quite, err, volcanic. Ellie certainly knows how to do the three finger shuffle. I was up against the shower wall, knickers around my knees and bra up somewhere around my neck, while she gave the the benefit of her undoubted manual experience. I have a love bite on my right tit which will take a fucking month to fade. Several minutes of frantic pumping, and some pretty lurid gasping and "Oh fuck's" from me, and Prisoner Campbell N. was enjoying an entirely unexpected knee shaking orgasm up against the said white tiled wall.

OK, the return bout was also quite satisfying, even given the difference in our heights. I have several ridges on my knees from being on the shower floor whilst I attempted (OK, succeeded) in revisiting my early years knack of bringing a girl off in less than 2 minutes with the zillion miles an hour Campbell tongue flick. Cook would surely appreciate the fact that my tongue wasn't just used for cutting sarcasm. Ho ho.

But this is two days later. Emily hasn't been in or near the prison at all, and Ellie is busily trying to shag me to death. One good thing about closed prisons is the peace you get when the door clangs shut on you. In here, the screws lock the wing doors at night and fuck off to a block between the wings to drink tea and read porn, I guess. A desultory cctv shows the ground floor door and offices, but above that, nada.

Which all means we are pretty much left to our own devices. The doors at the end of each landing are also locked, but that just stops you travelling anywhere but on your own one. Nothing to stop midnight 'visits' And boy, do _they _go on!

Its like Piccadilly Circus on my landing after lights out at 10. If they ever make a porn film that actually has some reality in it, some of my fellow cons would be stars overnight.

Ellie came into my room at just after 11, and even though I was feeling a bit mellow after the shower shagathon, I was pretty easy to persuade. After all, one shag wasn't gonna make up for over 3 years of celibacy, was it?

So after some entirely unnecessary slow stripping on her part to 'get me in the mood', we eventually did the side by side 69 bit for a while (very pleasant – she's smooth as a baby down there and very fragrant and I found out her tongue is as talented as her fingers. Oh shit, shut up Campbell...), Then we slept for an hour, did it again, and just when I was finally drifting off into an exhausted sleep, the little bitch slipped down the bed and used her small tongue to give me yet another big shuddering 'O'. Fucks sake, I was on the verge of a medical coma after that .

Not that she stopped there. We had morning wake up sex, afternoon delight in the shower again and another night of non stop fucking to follow. I am walking round with eyes like a pandas at the moment. It would have been easier to enter the Bristol Marathon, without the energy drinks and space blankets.

I did try to slow her down. When I had to forcibly remove her hand from my underwear in the dinner queue, I thought something had to be said. I mean, please?

"Look Ellie" I said, a faintly desperate note to my voice "It's not that I don't love having your hands down there, but time and place huh? You're gonna fucking kill me, quite apart from giving an entirely unwarranted X rated floor show to the whole fucking wing"

She pouted, so I tried humour

"This is no time to bring a child into the world" I grinned weakly.

She did laugh, but twenty minutes later, when I was trying to concentrate on my OU English Lit coursework back in my room, she insisted on kneeling under the desk/table and, well, you get the picture. I knew I shouldn't have worn a short fucking skirt. The books laid unread, and I must have looked a sight, writhing and gasping on the chair, gripping the desk so tight it took minutes to get the circulation going afterwards Jesus. This cannot go on, I thought, when she scooted out from under the desk, lips still wet and grinned up at me like a cheeky kid who's just been caught scrumping apples.

I actually considered putting my chair under the door handle last night. Fuck me, I've spent 3 years wishing I had a door handle on the inside. Now I am barricading myself in a cell...

"OK, Ellie" I said through pursed lips "That was, lovely...Go back to your room and come back in 10, yeah?"

Her eyes lit up like beacons, and I swear I could hear her hormones racing.

"No" I said, "Not for _that_. Could we just _talk_ for a bit, just for a change"

Her eyes narrowed and that pretty face wasn't so pretty in anger

"It's her, isn't it" she hissed and a stab of fear so pure, it was toxic, ran through my body like a million volt power jolt "_Emily fucking Fitch_. I saw the way you looked at her when we were on the landing that time"

I forced my face to remain impassive. One thing I can thank Styal for is the ability to give absolutely nothing away, when your insides are churning.

"Fuck off Ellie" I said flatly "Half the girls in here have a hard on for the Governor. I bet every second con has a middle finger called Emily Fitch after lights out" I pressed the point, still keeping my face blank of any of the emotions racing through my head

"She's cute. But so are you. The difference is, with her, its just window shopping. She doesn't get to sit on my face , does she?"

The deliberate brutality of that remark seemed to convince her. I don't know how, but as I let my breath out in a slow stream after I had been holding it for a couple of hours at least, her trademark grin was back.

"Yeah, well" she smirked "I've had my own fantasies about Emily Fitch"

Fucks sake, it took all my willpower not to smack her then and there. I felt a surge of totally unjustified jealousy at Ellies perving over 'my' Emily.

She left, but it certainly wasn't with any enthusiasm.

Soon enough the door opened and Ellies head popped round it, a wide grin signifying she had something else in mind apart from talking. As her body followed her head, I saw what her plan was. She was wearing a black, laced edged tight sleeveless top, Underneath it was fuck all, judging by the way her impressive tits jiggled attractively as she moved. Below she was wearing matching tight black leggings which hugged her like a second skin. Fucking hell, I thought, subtlety just went out of the window, if it ever had access in the first place. I was willing to bet there wasn't anything under those either. Jesus, it was like having an affair with the Duracell bunny. I would be dead in weeks if this kept up.

"Sit down Ellie" I said in an even voice, trying to keep my nervousness as absent as possible. "We need to talk, and I mean talk"

Her face got serious pretty quick and she made to sit next to me on the bed.

"No" I said, far too quickly,and that 'other' Ellie face appeared briefly before she masked it expertly. "Can you sit on the chair?" I smiled to soften the tone and she sat warily opposite me. As she crossed her legs, I ticked off the yes box in my brain. No knickers there, The leggings were practically sprayed on, and nothing much was left to uncover, that's for sure.

"Look hun" I said "Lets be honest with each other. We have had some amazing sex the last couple of days, and I am very fond of you" I could see her mentally preparing herself for the "It's not you, its me" speech, but that's not what I was going to do.

I carried on, whilst she was still calm enough to take in my words

"I don't know what you are expecting, but I have just come from a very unpleasant place, where every weakness is exploited, every kindness repaid with violence"

"Its gonna take me time to trust again, OK?"

She nodded quickly, obviously happy that I wasn't just dumping her.

"So, what I suggest is that we take it a bit slower" I said slowly (Yeah, right. What I really wanted was for her to get the fuck out, now that she had comprehensively scratched my itch)

"If we leave it tonight, I really have to get some of this weeks module done, otherwise they will fail me. OK?"

She mock scowled, but nodded her head reluctantly

"This doesn't mean you are blowing me off then" she said brightly, searching my eyes for the lie that definitely hid behind them

"No, of course not" I lied. My brain was screaming at me to tell her the truth. But that truth would have blown up not just in my face, but in Emily s too, and I wasn't about to do that to her.

She stood and faced me. The effect of the sudden movement causing a very attractive bounce of her chest and an eye level view for me of the place between her legs I had been visiting non stop for two days. My resolve nearly snapped, but I controlled myself with a deliberate prompt. "_Emily_" I thought, and it did the trick, I stood myself and gave Ellie a sisterly kiss on the cheek, which she almost turned into something else, but I managed to keep her head straight with my hands cupped on her cheeks.

"Its going to be OK" I lied again smoothly, and inwardly cursed myself for extreme cowardice under fire "I just need time to take this all in, right?"

Again the uncertain nod and that slightly hunted look in her eyes. I swear I could faintly smell boiling bunnies, but it could just have been the kitchen slops.

Once alone, I laid back on the bed with a deep sigh. What the fuck was I going to do about Ellie? And more importantly, what was I going to do about Emily Fitch. No answers came... I dozed off, my exhaustion getting the better of me finally.

When I woke, it was to the work bell, and I splashed my face with cold water in the bathroom to wake myself up properly. The weekend was here, and I was on duty in the library until 7 tonight. The other woman was on night off, so I went downstairs and collected the key from the screws office. I walked right to the end of the block and turned right. The library was a purpose built extension to the main building. Single story, with double doors leading to a 20 x 15 foot area lined with shelves. To the back was a desk and behind that the storage cupboard which housed all the magazines and books to be returned to the civvy library which gave us the majority of our stock. Although I had only been doing this a day or so, I was so familiar with libraries, having spent many a happy hour in my own local one after school. It was my refuge, the printed page, and I just loved the smell and texture of book, full stop.

This was my ideal job, and I had Emily Fitch to thank for it. Not only did I get the chance to browse to my hearts content when the other cons were at work, but I had a quiet and private space to do my thinking, now that Ellie had decided to fill my room with moans and sighs...

I realised it would be quiet this evening. Most cons were more interested in TV, which was housed in the room at the opposite end of the building, so once the initial flurry of bookworms left me on my own, I sat back on my padded chair and thought about what I was going to do about the two women in my life. Ellie was always going to be needy, and to be honest, once I had got the frantic shagging out of the way, we didn't have a great deal in common. Between marathon bouts of cunnilingus, her normal hairdresser mode came out. Not that she asked me where I was going on my holidays. That would just be stupid. But her conversations usually began with "She said" and ended with "So, I said". Which was somewhat limiting...

Emily Fitch, however was a whole new ball game. She was intelligent, smart and about as sexy a woman/girl as I had ever encountered, and believe me, there have been a few. It may be 9 years ago, but I still remembered that kiss. It had literally turned my head around. Life had never been the same afterwards. OK, I kinda knew I was gay all along, ever since my first crush at 13 on my art teacher, Miss Coombes (I smiled a sly inward smile when I remembered the fascination I had for her tits. Always the perv, eh Campbell?) But Emily Fitch, signed the certificate, embossed it with wax and sealed it away in my heart in a tube called 'Desire' I still have it there, although its a bit dusty now.

What was I gonna do about Emily, I daydreamed.

Well, I came up with no answers at all, because suddenly, the answer to the Ellie problem occurred to me in blinding neon lights. Of course. The reason Ellie is so keen is because she thinks there is no one else, no competition. I have never mentioned a girlfriend. But I could solve that one couldn't I?

There was this girl, on the outside, before I came in here. She was never a girlfriend in the conventional way. No moonlit walks or roses. A fucking good shag, but more of a friend with benefits. She had continued to write to me since I had been in here. The last letter only a couple of weeks ago. Of course, when I had been up in Cheshire, there was no way she would have visited. But now I'm back near Bristol?

Her last letter said she had broken up with her on off boyfriend, and cheekily asked me if I was up for a pity shag, just like old times. To be honest, our main similarities were a liking for spliff , JD and Coke and the occasional horizontal jiving. But she was funny, insightful and almost mystical in her ability to read another persons mind.

Of course. I could get her to visit, have a very public snog in the visitors room (the message would be out like wildfire, I knew that. Prisons live on gossip) then Ellie might back off enough for me to let her down gently. My inner mind slyly whispered that I might still get the occasional fuck, if I worked it right. Oh Campbell, I thought, the tangled webs we weave... In my mind I started writing the visiting order to Effy Stonem, I hoped would solve my problems.

Just as I rocked my chair back on all fours legs, looking up at the clock, which was approaching 6.45, the door opened. Oh fuck , I thought, I hope its not another con after the last Dannielle Steele...

It wasn't

A beautiful and very familiar face appeared round the door..

Emily Fitch. "I'm cooked", I thought, while sanity still owned me. She looked sensational.

"Can I have a word Naomi?" she said in a dark brown voice

Suddenly all my certainties went out of the barred window.

"Yeah" I breathed, unable to trust my voice for any more words

She stepped inside.. and locked the door behind her. My heart was beating so loud, I thought the walls of my chest would break. What the actual fuck?

**A/N**

**And that's where we leave our heroines, just for now. I have callouses on my fingers (not in a nice way) so I'm gonna stop and let you mull over that chapter (If you want to review I will roll over like a puppy and whimper very attractively, I promise ;)**

"**See you next time", as Naomi would say!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**

**Well its update time again. Last time I closed a chapter, Naomi was in the prison library, scheming to use Effy as Ellie repellent, and then the door opens and Emily Fitch walks in, closes the door...and locks it. **

**Thanks again to my awesome reviewers. They truly inspire and encourage me. I love you guys!**

**I've been told I should put a disclaimer here. So here goes. I don't own Skins, because if I did it would be wall to wall fluffy/smutty Naomily. So there!**

Emily

I locked the door behind me, and turned to meet the powder blue eyes of the one person who could really ruin my life. Naomi looked at me steadily, which almost made me turn and run, but I steadied myself with a long breath and spoke.

"Can I talk to you?" I said in a quiet voice. Not at all my normal assertive self.

She shrugged and rolled her beautiful eyes. "Go ahead, disappoint me" she said evenly, but a small smile betrayed her amusement and I gathered myself to speak the truth.

"Right, well. its..." I stammered. Then started again "I was horrible to you the other day, and I guess I deserved the little show you put on with Ellie on the landing"

She at least had the grace to lower her eyes at that barb, but otherwise she stayed silent.

"I am going to be truthful, and tell you things that I would never in a million years tell an inmate under normal circumstances" I swallowed before continuing. Still she held my gaze with those mesmerising eyes.

"For your information, I _have_ dumped my fiancée, But it wasn't just because you and I have met again. Things have been bad between us for a while now, and I guess you were the straw that broke the camels back"

She smiled a thin sarcastic smile "I've been called worse than a straw. Carry on.."

I looked deep into her eyes and saw that she wasn't actually taking the piss, rather keeping up the Campbell mask she was so skilful at wearing.

"You know we could never have a... proper relationship, at least while you are in here, don't you?"

Again she shrugged non-committally, but the small smile was back.

"OK, here it is" I said "I want to be your friend first. Can you handle that?"

She nodded, but her mask never faltered

"Outside this library, and my office, its Miss Campbell and Governor Fitch, right?"

"I can live with that" she smirked "But what about in here?"

"In here I am just going to ask one thing" I said, my voice croaky with tension

"And that is?" she said, rising from her seat and coming round the desk to stand two feet in front of me.

"And... get your arse over here Campbell and give me a fucking...just..."

I didn't finish because she closed the distance between us like a cat stalking a mouse. Suddenly my view was all platinum hair and blue eyes. Then the world exploded. Fireworks, Fourth of July, Chinese New Year, Olympic opening ceremonies... Fucking limp dicks, all of them. Kissing Naomi Campbell was a thermonuclear bomb in comparison. When her lips closed over mine, and she slid her arms around me, pressing her body against mine so tight, I nearly fucking died. In fact I might have, I don't know. All I was conscious of was pure, unadulterated sensation. Soft, searching lips, an urgent, probing tongue and her arms squeezing me like she would never let me go.

I don't know how long we stood like that, but it may have been hours. I didn't need to stop for breath, she was giving me the kiss of life over and over. I moaned into her mouth and she moaned back. Fuck, she is as blown away as me, I thought.

Finally, reluctantly, she cupped my face in her hands and pulled away to look in my eyes. I was drowning, and only she could save me. I put up my hands between us to push her back as she leaned in for another kiss, but she understood, and pulled away. Her breath smelled faintly of peppermint Tic Tacs and I nearly died from sensory overload all over again when she whispered something so low, I almost didn't hear it, even though she was inches away.

"You know I've always loved you, don't you" she said, and this time lowered her eyes to the floor as if she had finally unburdened herself.

My knees felt weak, and I might have fallen if she hadn't been holding me. I said groggily

"We should, you know, stop now, before..."

She gave me a sweet, understanding smile and spoke

"I will if you will Emily. But there is just one thing"

I wrinkled my brow in puzzlement at that

"What?"

She grinned a bit wider

"You'll have to let go of my tits for that to happen"

I dropped my hands like I had been scalded. I suddenly realised that my palms held the memory of two perfect breasts. I had been fucking touching her up without even knowing it. My blush would have started a small brush fire if we had been outside, but her delicious giggle made me feel a bit better.

When she stepped away, I felt a moment of loss I have never experienced before and a big part of me wanted nothing more than to go back 30 seconds and experience the ecstasy of that shared kiss all over again. But I didn't dare. One more of those firecrackers tonight and I would be naked and rolling on the floor with prisoner Campbell N. screaming the place down, and that just couldn't happen. At least not here... not yet. I cringed at the realisation that I actually _would_ have if she had wanted it badly enough.

I felt embarrassed, but strangely at peace with myself for the first time in months. Jesus, I was actually contemplating a sexual relationship with a prisoner in my charge. I don't think a plea of insanity would cut it with the Number One Governor, but I just didn't care. This felt so _right_...

With one last chaste kiss on my cheek, Naomi finally released me from my dream like state. She looked into my eyes for a minute, seeming to come to a decision. She bit her lip adorably and went back behind the desk. Part of me was relieved, because I seemed to have no control whatsoever of my own body when she was in close proximity. My mind flickered with a thought about what sex with her would be like if that was what a kiss could produce, but to be honest, I think my circuits were all burned out and I couldn't process that image. She sat down and breathed deeply before speaking.

"OK Emily, we have a problem here" she said in a voice full of regret

"I..I.I..I" I said stupidly, unable to control my lips now. For fucks sake Emily, I thought, get a grip.

My heart sank as I began to think she was having second thoughts, but she seemed to read my mind because her hand came up as if to stop me in my tracks.

"No" she said "It's OK, but we have to be so careful, right?"

I nodded dumbly, wondering why a convicted criminal could muster her thoughts quicker than a senior prison official.

"One thing prison has taught me is how to keep a secret, so that's not a problem. But there is Ellie. She has a nose like a Rottweiler, when it comes to you. She's already accused me of having the hots for you just from that exchange of glances on the landing earlier this week, so if we give her any clues, she'll be on to us like a snake"

I nodded again, wondering why I was doing an impression of a parcel shelf ornament.

"OK" I said, absently "And then there's Sophia". The words were out of my mouth before I even thought them. The resulting silence felt like a lead weight had landed on the room

"And who the fuck is Sophia?" Naomi snarled.

I realised that lies would just goad her, so I decided truth was going to be needed here. Then I found myself bristling at her tone. After all. She was the one who had spent the week fucking the brains out of another woman, wasn't she?.

"Err, she's just some random I know. We had, a..." and I struggled with the words "Bit of a thing one night. Trouble is, she's had the hots for me for ages, so I might have some trouble convincing her that its over before its begun, you know?"

I looked into those sparkling blue eyes, but this time they were as cold as granite and lasering me where I stood.

"Just some random. That sounds likely" she said through gritted teeth. "So basically, you saw me with Ellie and decided the cure for a broken heart was a shag with the next willing woman to cross the road in front of you" Her face was dangerously pale, and I had the horrible feeling this was spinning out of control.

"It wasn't like that Naomi" I said pathetically. Fact was, it was just like that, and no spin was gonna change that. I held out my hands to her and tried the submissive route I had perfected when dealing with my dominant older twin Katie in the past.

"Look" I said slowly "I saw you with Ellie, decided to go out and get pissed, and we sort of hooked up. It was just the one night"

I couldn't resist a counter attack, and that was fucking stupid, but I did it anyway

"Just the _one _night Naomi. Not a fuck fest, night after night like you've had"

As if I knew what had actually been happening between her and Ellie. But as the colour in her face drained even more, I saw that saying what I feared had been a big, big mistake.

"Fine" she hissed "I think we both know where we stand now"

I held my hands up again, ashamed of my bitchiness. After all, she thought I had blanked her, so Ellie was just in the right place at the wrong fucking time, right?

"I'm so sorry Naomi" I said weakly "Can we put this behind us and try to get back to where we were a few minutes ago?"

I knew before she spoke that that wasn't going to happen. Her face was almost white with anger now, and I saw a frightening change in the soft and loving Naomi who had been here 5 minutes ago.

"Fuck it" she said savagely "Serves me right for trusting a glorified screw" she glared at me as she pushed past to the door, opening it wide and giving me one last death stare before whispering her usual parting shot. Only this time it wasn't a cheeky joke, or double entendre.

"Best we keep our distance, I think" she sneered "Maybe I should ask for a change of parole officer"

That hurt, and I felt tears stinging my eyes.

"Fine" I hissed back "Best thing all round, I think"

I stamped off back to my office, hearing the library door slam behind me as she locked up and ran up the stairs to her room.

Back to square one then.

**A/N**

**Can't make it too easy can I? Review you wonderful people!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**

**So... You had enough smut yet? I can't hear you... deafening silence Oh well, you may have to wait because I have to get some plot written out here, and the smut keeps distracting me from my goal. Naomi, or I Moan s JJ called her, is not a happy girl, even with the Duracell bunny recharged and ready with the self lowering knickers (TillyHo, I love you, even though we've never met!) Do you remember the Duracell bunny with the cymbals? Well, my minds eye sees Ellie with the same attributes and speed, but its her tongue that...(Shut up Nancy, that's disgusting!)**

**Right. Thanks to my wonderful reviewers and followers, I am writing more. Thank you one and all. **

**I don't own Skins, because if I did all the men would be written out and it would be a big old lezzer multi partner swap shop. The only function Cook and Freddie (let alone bloody JJ) would perform would be serving drinks and keeping us in batteries (ahem) So there. (but Naomily would be sacrosanct of course, because...they are W_ritten in the stars_, duh...)**

Naomi

Fucking _bitch_, fucking _bitch_, fucking _bitch_. Fucking _**bitch**_. My mind repeated the words in time with my stomp up the wing stairs to my landing. Every step a winner. The night screw looked at me in amazement as I repeated my mantra passing her, and walked along the landing to my cell. Ellie, of course, was at her own open door, looking hopeful, and as I approached, she opened her mouth to say something. Probably something sympathetic, how the fuck do I know?

I glared at her, and she actually physically flinched at my expression. They don't call it the Campbell death stare for nothing. I swear if I had looked in a mirror right then, my hair would be all live. writhing snakes, and I would instantly turn to stone at my own reflection

I slammed my cell door behind me so hard, the frame shook. Funnily enough, I didn't get any more visitors that night. I sank onto the bed and folded my arms tight around me, looking out of my window at the night sky. The only person I could trust was holding me tight. I sat like that for about 10 minutes, replaying the conversation (oh yeah and the mind blowing kiss, don't forget that, eh Naomi?) I had had with Emily Fitch in the library. If I had been outside this place when a black mood like this seized me, only alcohol and mind altering drugs would have been powerful enough to shake me out of it. But despite rumours to the contrary, drugs are not on tap in prisons. You have to know the right person, have something they want, and that's not always money, believe me. _And_ be crazy enough to trust they weren't mixed with bleach powder, flour or something. I wasn't that desperate. Yet.

I got up and used my mini kettle to make a hot chocolate and crunched a McVities Digestive while I waited for it to cool in my Greenpeace mug. Fucking hell, I was even out of Garibaldi's. Cosmic.

Blowing on the hot brown liquid and still gazing out of the window, I mulled over what had happened tonight. A feeling of helplessness and dark despair washed over me. Whenever I had been fucked over in the past, it had always been in a situation where I could just run away. That was the old Naomi Campbell stock answer to problems. Skip school, skip college, go up to my aunts in London, sleep in the park with a vodka bottle for company, you name it. Every girl who had however briefly held my heart and then kicked it down the street had been forgotten just by the simple mechanism of me disappearing for long enough for the pain to subside. OK, nothing in my past was even close to preparing me for a world without the force of nature called Emily Fitch, but tried and tested routines are hard to shake off, and my instincts were screaming at me "_Run, just fucking run Naomi_"

Run where, I thought, a wry smile on my face. Twenty laps of this 8' x 10' box? Not much point, was there?

I gradually started to cool down and think about things a bit more clearly. OK, Emily _had_ shagged another woman (_whoever __**Sophia**__ is_, my little green mind-devil nagged). But fairs fair, I had been about 30 seconds away from shagging Ellie at the time, so I was hardly in a position to throw accusations. Why the fuck was I so incredibly bitter about it all? Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was insanely, totally _jealous_. Not just the normal human reaction to finding out you didn't have exclusivity on your lover, but a boiling, bubbling, spite filled green morass that consumed me like molten lead. I had never actually been properly jealous in my life before, and the feeling wasn't at all pleasant.

I sat there for another 10 minutes, absorbing the pain, and then shook myself physically. What the fuck was there to be jealous about? I'd shagged, she'd shagged. Neither relationship was based on anything other than basic and immediate sex. What's the problem Campbell. I thought finally. Hadn't that incredible, mind blowing kiss with Emily erased everything unimportant from my brain in one blinding flash? It had, hadn't it, till my personal green eyed monster had emerged, spitting fire and bile at her.

In the end, it all boiled down to one simple fact. Could I trust her to be absolutely truthful from now on, or not? After all, I reasoned, she could have just kept the whole Sophia thing to herself. I wouldn't be any the wiser. It's not as if I was likely to bump into the two of them in a bar was it? But she hadn't. I remembered how that slip of the tongue had made her blush with shame and stutter out an explanation.

I remembered her expression when she had admitted she was taking a huge gamble on me. For fucks sake. She was a Governor, kissing the face off a female prisoner and promising much a full blooded affair if not explicitly. If I could only keep it in my pants. Who was taking the biggest risk here? Suddenly I felt like the worlds biggest fool. And that's not something I was either used to or happy with.

So here I was, locked on my landing, with a sex crazed bunny boiler for a neighbour, and the person I most wanted to see, talk to, and hold, was right now driving away from this place, probably with a firm resolve never to have anything to do with prisoner Campbell N. ever again in the history of the world. What did I want to achieve with my treatment of her tonight? For her to look up Sophia for a second sympathy shag? Fuck no, I thought, the images _that_ conjured up in my mind were too horrifying to contemplate. I lay on my bed, looking up at the stars in the night sky for ages. It was after 12 when my eyes finally closed and I slept.

Morning. I groaned as the bright sunshine made the world seem red under my closed eyelids. Fuck it was bright. I tried opening one eye, but immediately regretted it as the sun shot rays of pure brilliance into my brain. I rolled to one side and looked at the blank wall beside my single bed. Hmmm, I thought, there needs to be a picture, right there, and I know just the one to fill that space on the plaster and the space in my heart. But for once it wasn't my lake I was thinking about. I nice portrait of one Emily Fitch would have been perfect. If a little unlikely. I groaned again as the events of last night scrolled through my head, like a slow motion car crash you feel compelled to watch over and over again. What had I been thinking, I cursed myself for the thousandth time. I finally found the woman who had woken me from my faux hetero hell at the age of 15, and now I've done the one thing that I seemed destined to do over and over again. I'd fucked it up.

Getting up and about was a relief, after my all night introspection jag. At least doing something, even something as mundane as cleaning my teeth and queuing for a shower took my mind away from my self flagellation. I passed Ellie on the landing and returned her worried look with a small smile. I am never going to be a morning person (unless Emily Fitch is, and then I might just.. shut the fuck up about her Naomi, I reminded my inner devil) I think she was still freaked about my death stare of last night, so I let myself enjoy the interlude while it lasted.

Dressing for the day back in my cell, I let my mind wander to that kiss. Jesus. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. I knew that with every part of me, body and soul. If I thought that adolescent snog nearly 9 years ago had changed my world, the kiss she had shared with me in the library was like comparing the Mona Lisa with a school hand painting exercise. I had literally been rocked off my feet, and without her to hold on to, I knew I would have collapsed in a hysterical puddle at her feet.

But none of this would help me resolve the situation my fucking maniac temper had got me into. I was terrified that I had played into the hands of her reluctance to cross the professional boundary she should have been well the other side of. Those boundaries were my sworn enemies, and I had just given them my battle plans and pointed out very helpfully where my weak points were. Stupid,much?

I racked my brains as I got ready to go down to the library. I knew that she wouldn't be in this morning after pulling a late shift yesterday, so at least in the peace and quiet of the room full of books and memories, I would have thinking time. I passed Ellie again on the way and this time gave her a word of comfort.

"Sorry hun" I began, then cursed myself for giving her the encouragement that obviously came from my friendly opening, as she flashed me a brilliant smile and linked arms with me as I walked down the corridor to the block door. She would be going to the 'salon' to colour and cut the queue of cons hair which was bound to be waiting on a Monday. I carried on walking, my mind desperately searching for an out to this pretty but irrelevant problem walking beside me.

"Err" I began, temporarily losing the power of coherent speech. "About yesterday"

She beamed up at me from somewhere south of my armpit "That's OK baby" I winced at the word. If I was anyone's baby, it was either Gina Rose Campbell or a certain red headed pocket dynamo from Bristol. Still, I felt I sort of owed her for the brush off last night, even if I had no intention of reconvening our shagathon session. I kept the conversation light and shallow, which should have suited her fine, being a hairdresser, and soon enough we separated at the door with no more than a squeeze of her hand on my upper arm. Funnily enough I had to stop myself bristling even at that casual touch. My inner devil shouted in my ear "Stop it, I'm Emily's" Ho ho, I wish...

The morning dragged, with nothing more exciting than a few desultory enquiries from fellow cons for the next issue of Hello and OK. I had to stop my eyes rolling otherwise I would have ended up looking like a drunken sailor on shore leave. Most of the rest of the morning I was left to my own devices, as Barbara, my supposed predecessor was giddy on what we call 'gate fever', and if I gave her the chance, would spend the whole day telling me what she was going to do to her boyfriend the minute she was released. I don't know about straight girls, but I had soon had far too much information about what sort of tune she was going to play on his pink trombone. Blow jobs make me queasy at the best of times (OK, I have tried it, but I think swallowing wallpaper paste is way over rated) so I turned the subject firmly above waist level, and thankfully she relented after I flat refused to join in her reminiscences and fantasies. She left me to it after a good ten minutes of silent treatment from yours truly. At last I was free to indulge my new favourite occupation.

What to do about Emily.

With the other cons in their rooms for lunch (I settled for a banana – no cracks- and a large coffee) I finally had time to think about how I was going to rescue the situation. That's if it wasn't totally unresolvable, thanks to my fucking green eyed temper monster.

It came to me in a flash of realisation. We would never get the time to have an in depth, drawn out exploration of our feelings, at least not as things stood, so I had only one alternative. I would write her a letter. Not your average, how are you, I wanna fuck your brains out, letter. But a full and frank confession about my feelings, both towards her, and why I was so insecure about anything and everybody. I also had to deal with the Ellie situation, of course. But this would be a start. There was always the possibility that she could just screw up the letter and blank me. But hey ho, what had I got to lose?

Starting the letter was fucking agony, and I screwed up reams of half begun ramblings before I finally decided on an intro.

Dear Emily, I wrote, and then wasted spent ten minutes worrying about whether I should personalise it at all. Then I cussed myself as a tit and decided she was hardly likely to share this with anyone, whatever the result, so I should just get the fuck on with it.

_**So, Dear Emily**_

_**First of all, I am a tit. Not just a common or garden blue or great tit, but a great jelly like wobbly tit with the brains of a bar of soap. I'm sorry. I'm gonna say that about a hundred fucking times in this letter, so get used to it. **_

_**If you screw up this letter and forget you ever knew me, I will understand, I promise. I will however go into terminal decline, refuse to eat or drink,and almost certainly do a swan dive off the top landing, to land with a liquid thud right next to your office. Pretty it won't be.**_

_**Just so's you know I love you. Not the soppy soap opera will she won't she love, but for the first time in my life, ever, I am totally, head over heels, silly grin permanently on my face, "Jesus if she doesn't love me I may just die", type of in love.**_

_**You may think you know me after reading my file, and that secret stuff they hold on computer which never actually exists. But you don't. I would love to able to say I had a shit upbringing, with an absent father (well OK, that bit is accurate) and indifferent mother, but nothing could be further from the truth. My mum is ace. She is a daft eco warrior hippy with strange ideas about banana's (I'll tell you all about it later, right) but she loves me, even if I have been a total bitch to her and shut her out for the past year or so. Its only because I cannot survive these places if I show weakness. Holloway and Styal taught me to build walls that aren't make of bricks around me, and it has served me well so far. Until you that is.**_

_**You obviously remember that kiss the way I do. Otherwise this has all been for nothing. You changed my life in that garden on that summer night. I may have perved over my art teachers tits a year before (OK ,shoot me) but I never knew what I was actually feeling until a certain little brunette (I love the red by the way, don't change it!) rocked my world, and made me want to shout from the school roof "I'm Naomi Campbell, I've just kissed this amazing girl and I'm fucking GAY!"**_

_**The fact that your psycho homicidal sister almost scragged me bald afterwards (I still bear the scars, you can look if you like) was by the way. I finally knew what I was and I wasn't ashamed at all. My mum thought it was uber cool to have a gay daughter, so bringing girlfriends home was never an issue. I know you won't want to hear details, but I took my sexuality as it came, and never had an issue with it afterwards. And that was because of you Emily Fitch. You didn't know it, and never admitted you felt the same, but it mattered to me, OK?**_

_**But I know you're busy and may be reading this letter through your fingers, so I'll get to the point. The monster you saw last night isn't me, not really. It's the me I have manufactured to stop me being hurt in here. OK, I am not a happy bunny about this Sophia, and just writing her name makes my stomach churn, but as with Ellie from my landing, I think she's just a distraction. I could be wrong, but what happened last night was like all the birthdays and Christmases I have wasted in here have suddenly joined in a massive mental celebration. I am drunk on you Emily Fitch, and if this thing of ours never gets further than touching hands and furtive kisses, I will die happy. You're beautiful, funny, smart and so drop dead gorgeous that I will have to start carrying a change of knickers around for the odd occasion we bump into each other in the wing. Too much information, I know, but I have always been one to say it how it is. The upside of that (if you're interested) is that I can be very creative err, verbally in some 'horizontal positions', so if you ever want to find out I promise it will be fun!**_

_**OK, last paragraph. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Do you get the picture. I promise to be a good girl from now on. Not get obscenely jealous when you have the odd liaison outside to scratch your itch, and I will personally abstain from letting Ellie into my knickers any more. Just one condition. You love me Emily Fitch, you just love me, and fucking tell me you love me every time you can. That's all you have to do to have a happy and contented Naomi Campbell. Just saying...**_

_**Forgive me?**_

_**Love always your Naomi**_

I finished the letter sappily I knew, but that's what the girl did to me, what am I gonna do?

I sealed it inside a reusable envelope one of the local library memo's had come in and stored it in my knickers (I didn't have any perfume to make it more fragrant, but I somehow suspected that she wouldn't complain much) until I could stash it upstairs. She wouldn't be in until Tuesday morning, so I had to keep it safe till then. Anything with Emily and my name on it was dynamite, so I had to be more than careful.

Back upstairs, I body swerved Ellie, promising to see her in the evening and stashed the letter inside the tubular leg of my bed, putting the rubber stop back on the steel afterwards and thought about tomorrow. Tomorrow, I hoped everything would be OK... wouldn't it?

Tuesday

Up with the lark (well as lark like as a Campbell ever gets) and a swift shower, dab with some body lotion, dress in black skinny's and blue tee and off I go, downstairs to my 'Rehabilitative Counselling' session – sadly a group one – with Emily Fitch.

I even had a smile and a wave for Ellie, which after my last few days of basically ignoring her was enough to brighten her day. I just hoped she didn't expect a shag on the strength of it. Shags would be in short supply from now on.

I knocked on the Governors office door and entered at the brisk 'Hello' which answered it.

Emily sat behind her desk, dressed in a light grey business suit with a black buttoned top underneath. My brain said 'fuck me sideways' and I had to physically prevent my body carrying myself over the desk and into her lap. Her eyes were cool, as she stared at me, and I almost lost my nerve. I had never seen those beautiful brown eyes anything but alive with feeling and I cussed myself again for making this all so difficult for her on Sunday. I gathered my nerve and did what I said I was going to do. Holding out the sealed letter, still warm from where it had nestled until very recently, I said in a formal voice

"Oh, Miss Fitch, this is the letter you were expecting"

My eyes begged her to take it, and after a small but significant pause, she took it from my hand and went to put it on her desk. The other three women in the semi circle of cons watched us like hawks, because nothing in prison goes unnoticed, but my girl never missed a beat. As the letter passed her face on its way to the drawer, I saw her eyes dilate and her nostrils widen. Fuck, I thought, she can smell me on it, and in a very nice way!

Not a flicker after that. In the drawer it went, and after I sat down in my place, the session got under way.

It wasn't quite an AA meeting, but at times it got quite emotional. Everyone has a back story in prison, and these sort of group meetings tend to reduce some women to tears quite easily. When it came to my turn I adopted the contrite sinner pose the authorities loved although, as I'm sure it said on my file, I had never really done the whole confession thing. Comes from not actually fucking knowing what I did really. Short of second sight, I was never going to remember the events of that night. I was desperately sorry for the young couple who had died, and many nights were spent wishing it all away, but truth to be told, I was still really waiting to deal with my crime. I suppose that was the point of these meetings, and because Emily watched me like a hawk while I was showing remorse, I tried to be the penitent for her. Sounds hard I know, but it was all still after all these years confusing to me.

After an hour of soul searching and executive listening skills from our wing Governor, we were dismissed. I tried to lag behind, but Emily was having none of it. She was professionalism personified. I gave her one last long look, but her head was down in her paperwork, and my last memory was just of that head of beautifully managed red hair.

The afternoon passed as slowly as any afternoon does when you are waiting for a response to something important, so you can imagine my plummeting heart when I saw Emily leave her office at 5, locking it behind her before leaving the wing at a fast clip. She never even glanced my way, and it took all my willpower to keep the Campbell mask on tight. I swallowed hard at the disappointment, and turned back to my room. The ever present Ellie was there of course, like a Remora fish, clinging to any hope of shagathon the sequel. I chatted to her half heartedly, but she could sense my mood and left me to my thoughts without too much of a struggle. I remember muttering something about 'family problems' and she seemed to accept that lie with good grace.

6 pm saw me in the library again. Barbara was absent, again, supposedly getting her hair done for imminent release, so that left me without the problem of my love bunny Ellie 'just passing' my place of work. I settled down for an evening with the Lakeland Poets. My course tutor would be proud of me. Of course, reading the same fucking line for 15 minutes doesn't really count as revision, does it?

So when the door opened at 6.30, I sat upright, glad of the interruption. I smelt her perfume before she came in, so the flash of red wasn't such a surprise. Her face was guarded, but in her hands she was carrying a large cardboard box. She plonked it on the desk in front of me before speaking.

"There are last weeks Hello, OK and a few Closers here Naomi" she smiled with her mouth. I noticed it didn't reach her eyes. "I usually bring them in for the wing on Tuesday".

I held my breath, hoping there was more.

"You might find something of use at the bottom too" she said breezily, before turning on her heel and walking back out of the door. It closed behind her with a heavy thump, which was echoed in my falling heart. Fuck, she _**was**_ dumping me!

I thumbed through the stupid girlie mags with no enthusiasm at all. Fucking silicone models and Z list celebrities adorned every front page. I almost dumped the whole lot in the bin, but something wasn't quite right. The bottom layer wobbled slightly and I could see something underneath. Something in a small box, about 6" square.

Checking the door and corridor for wandering screws, I slid open the plain black slip case and nearly dropped the fucking thing on the floor. The word Samsung jumped out at me in full glowing colour. It was a tiny fucking mobile, for Christ's sake.

The short journey up to my cell was a nightmare. Have you ever tried to smuggle a mobile phone in your knickers, even a very small one, across a crowded concourse, thronging with very observant people? Thought not. I had to adjust myself several times on the way. I wasn't quite brave enough to put it in the obvious crevice. I didn't know if it was waterproof for a start! Anyone looking too close at my crotch would assume I had gained a small but perfectly formed addition to my anatomy. I would have been killed in the rush, no doubt.

Shutting my door behind me, I slid the phone rapidly into the same place the letter had occupied earlier and breathed a little easier. Once lights out was called, and the place calmed down a bit, I unfolded the single sheet of A4 paper that had been wrapped round the handset and read what it said.

"_Naomi. You are forgiven. This is for you. Text me later, say after 11. I love you. E")_

Simple, to the point and enough to make my heart swell like the sun.

She loved me. She loved me, she loved me.

**Well guys, I have to post this now, without revealing the texts that transpire because I have to at some stage do my fkin job and stop hammering at my keyboard. But don't worry, you will have ringside seats at the Naomily text fest. Promise!**

**Review guys, I love it!**


	10. Chapter 10

**The Texts**

Naomi

I kept looking at the clock, ten, quarter past, ten thirty, ten forty five... No evening ever went slowly. My overhead lamp was out, just the moonlight from the window illuminated the room in a pale ghostly light.

Finally, my small travel clock bleeped once for 11 pm. I reached down between my legs and held the phone as it nestled inside my girl shorts. It felt alien, but strangely right down there, waiting for Emily to bring it to life.

About 10 seconds after I touched it, it buzzed silently and persistently, the resulting tingles running up and down my stomach as it vibrated again, and again. I slid it out from its warm secret place and, holding the duvet over my head so the light from the tiny screen was hidden, touched the Read button. _New text from E,_ it said. I thumbed the scroll bar down the text.

Emily: _Hi there N. How r u?_

I hit the reply button straight away : _Better now. The phone was in my knickers, tempted to leave it there when it vibrated so hard ;)_

Emily: _Cheeky. Thats not why I got it 4 u!_

Me: _Did I say I'm sorry about yesterday?_

Emily: _About a thousand times. I forgive you sexy ;P_

Me: _God, I want to kiss u!_

Emily: _Me 2. But this is quite fun 2 no?_

Me: _For a bit..._

Emily: _Yeah, for a bit_

Me: _How much credit have I got?_

Emily: _With me, all the credit in the world, on the phone £75. Don't worry_

Me: _I 'll always worry, its in my nature_

Emily: _I love you. Believe that if nothing else x_

Me: _I do, but I __**so**__ want you here, __**now!**_

Emily: _Little steps Naoms, yeah?_

Me: _I like that. Call me Naoms again_

Emily: _My lovely Naoms._

Emily: _I want to kiss you __**so**__ much_

Me: _Don't tease, I'm only human!_

Emily: _Tease, moi?_

Me; _Yeah, you :)_

Emily: Y_ou want teasing, OK, what u wearing?_

Me: R U_ talking phone sex here Fitch?_

Emily _Ha ha ha, yep ;P_

_Me: I sleep naked_

Emily, _Bitch, I'm way overdressed!_

Me: _get naked 4 me babe_

Emily: _Minute?_

Me _Hurry up, I'm ahead of u!_

Emily: OK. _As the day I was born now..._

Me: _You r so beautiful my Ems_

Emily: _U 2 ditto_

Me: _The first night I was here, I got off dreaming about u_

Emily: _Really, that's a coincidence!_

_Me: Yeah, right_

Emily: _I said I'd never lie babe. Its true_

Emily: _I never came so hard_

_Me: _Fuck Ems, Jesus, _I am __**so**__ wet 4 u now_

_Emily: Me too, and getting wetter_

Me: _Tell me what u r doing babe_

Emily: _Touching my boobs and nipples and pretending its you_

Me: _Fuck I am so horny now_

Emily: _Touch yourself angel_

Me: _Way ahead of you, Juggling phone and fingers!_

Emily: _Oh shit, this is awkward, but so lovely_

Me: _Can you phone me, I'm getting close already_

Emily: _Wait xx_

I waited ten seconds or so, the phone on my shoulder, with me lying on my back with the duvet tented over my head. Thank God the screws in here don't do cell checks!

I heard the faint double buzz, and thumbed the answer button eagerly.

Emily: "_Hi again babes. Oh Jesus, So, I'm on my back with my legs open and my fingers inside myself. Can you hear how wet I am?"_

I could and it was driving me crazy, the slick sounds of her fingers inside her.

"_Oh God Ems, my fingers are circling my clit, and I'm trying not to scream out your name!"_ I groaned

It went quiet for a second, and then I heard her own deep moan. A delicious helpless moan that instantly made every inch of my body tingle. I felt the muscles of my stomach clench and knew I had seconds left. There was no way I was going to stop myself. It was all too intense. The thought of her naked and masturbating, the sounds of her breathing and the small viscous sounds of her fingers working.

"_I'm gonna come baby_" I moaned softly, my own fingers thrusting in and out of me, uncaring how hard I was fucking myself.

"_Coming too Naoms_" she hissed hard in my ear and I heard her cry out as her orgasm pummelled her. The speaker went muffled, I guess as she rolled about . It was all too much. I came hard and frantically, feeling my muscles clench around my fingers. I was so wet, I knew I would have to change the sheets in the morning. I could hear her breathing slowly return to normal, as mine did. It was the most intimate moment I have ever had during sex, and yet the most distant. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I realised this was probably as close as we were going to get to real sex for the foreseeable future.

I knew she was smart, but it was more than that. She seemed to understand without me explaining, and I heard her voice, low and husky, soothing me.

"_Hush baby_" she said "_This is only the beginning. We will find a way to do this properly, I promise,_ _OK?"_

I swallowed a sob and whispered agreement. I just knew, at that moment, My Emily would make everything alright, whatever it took. At that exact second, I gave myself over totally to another human being for the first time in 23 years.

"_I love you so much, my heart aches, Ems_" I said in a voice breaking but clear

"_And I love you Naoms_" she whispered softly. "_Go to sleep now. I will be with you in your dreams tonight"_

I knew she was telling the truth. I was safe with her looking over me. My eyelids drooped in lovely exhaustion. I was done.

That post orgasmic sleepy haze descended inexorably on me and we just had time to tell each other about our love before she gently scolded me about deleting the texts and saving my battery. When she had finally gone and I was alone in my barren room, I wept again, but the sadness was tinged with a strange joy at the love I had discovered in this, the most unlikely place for it to blossom in Britain. Emily loved me, I knew that for certain now. It was going to be alright, wasn't it?.

**Ahhh. So sweet. Maybe things _will_ be OK for our girls now. What do you think? Reviews will make me write, remember? Be nice girls ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N**

**Firstly, many thanks to my wonderful reviewers, who don't just encourage me, they fill my ears with joy and laughter on occasion. That's not to mention the odd extremely risqué suggestion which makes me giggle, and alerts my all too active imagination to ever naughtier possible scenarios. Serves you all right if this chapter verges on the sooty, rather than smutty!**

So,

Emily

Its been a week since Naomi and I shared that rather spectacular bed bound phone call, I woke the next morning with the sort of lovely ache my body had almost forgotten since college and Sarah's rather novel way of getting me to sleep. I got up and smiled at myself in the wall mirror. My face definitely had that just shagged look, even if the person who had given me that bone shaking orgasm was 5 miles away, locked on a landing with 20 other convicted criminals. Jesus, I thought, if she can have that effect on me at a distance, what the hell would an actual night with Naomi Campbell be like? My smile widened as my imagination ran riot with possibilities...

We've had several more late night conversations since, but as we have to be so careful, I have made her promise to ration the 'sex line' type to once every couple of days. Personally I would shag her night and day till my body gave out and my brain turned to muesli, but it wasn't going to happen short term, and we both knew that. When I caught her eye on the wing on Wednesday, she had that slight tinge of sadness in her bright blue eyes, and I felt a shit yet again for being the one who went home to a comfortable flat with bottles of wine and Galaxy in the fridge and a flat screen TV as big as a pool table. One of us was suffering, and it wasn't me.

I made a conscious effort to call her into my office several times, without giving the other cons reason to suspect anything other than my professional interest, but it was really hard not to see her, smell her and have her close to me without thinking about her naked and moaning underneath me. And it wasn't as if it was just the sex. I craved her eyes, her mouth and most of all, the soft way she spoke to me when we were alone, and could be ourselves. There was such a huge amount of love untapped inside Naomi Campbell, and I was desperate to bring it to the surface. Trouble was, I wasn't sure I could handle her if I did, so I did the usual Fitch trick of doing all the irrelevant things competently, whilst dying a bit inside every time I dropped my keys off at the gate and went home.

It was Saturday, and I was pulling an extra shift, because we were short of uniform staff on the wing. PO Phelps was off on a short holiday, and Glenda, the usual wing officer had go off at 5 to visit her sick mum or something. That made it easy for me to suggest to the Number One that I cover the wing for evening duties. After the usual screws had clocked off at 5, the cons were pretty much left to their own devices until 8pm landing lock-down. One TV room was soon full of squealing girls watching X Factor and the other room had its Strictly devotees, jammed in to the doors. With just me on duty, the other half dozen girls were either playing table tennis or reading alone in their cells. I suppose at least a couple were in the shower for some afternoon delight, but after I had left one shower cubicle red faced early in my career having surprised a couple of naked and very vocal ladies going at each other hammer and tongs, I learned to give the wash room a miss if I heard any obvious groans coming from the back!

So my thoughts turned to the library. I knew Barbara was again sick, and resting in cell. So my Naoms would be alone. Dare I risk another furtive meeting? Fuck it, I was tired of putting it off. With one last glance up and down the wing, making sure there were no stragglers, I walked briskly to the end of the corridor and quietly opened the door. My girl was at her desk, head bowed with a couple of OU text books open in front of her, a jotter with lines of indecipherable scribble laid to one side, and the inevitable Naomi Campbell mug of hot coffee stood steaming on the edge of the desk.

"One lump or two?" I whispered cheekily .

She jumped slightly, and kept her head down, but I noticed the delicious tinge of redness in her ears as she tried to keep her voice neutral.

"I know you like it well stirred Miss" she said, a hint of suppressed laughter in her tone

"Stirred, shaken and licked within an inch of my life" I said, this time laughing myself.

"If only" she said slowly, the melancholy in her voice immediately suppressing my attempt at humour.

"Soon honey"` I said "Look at me Naomi"

Her head lifted and I again swam in the bright blue oceans of her eyes. They told stories that I was only beginning to understand, and I ached for her all over again.

"I will fix this. I will find a way. Just trust me, OK?"

She nodded, but I knew the platitudes were only going to work for a short while. Getting her out of here was going to be a long job, and we both knew it.

"I thought you might give me an opinion on these" I said carefully. I saw her brow crinkle as she tried to work out what I was on about. I dropped my hands to my sides and began to draw up the sides of my skirt. I took my time, and by the time the hem was at the top of my thighs, I saw her nostrils flare and her blue eyes widen in amusement. I was wearing my very best Victoria Secret black hold ups with the lace edging and as I carried on raising the skirt to my waist, the matching expensively thin black lace cami knickers. I had debated for about half an hour before deciding on this outfit today. Under the standard dark grey knee length skirt, there was no clue whilst I worked my late shift, that such hidden treasures lay underneath.

She actually fucking growled as she sat there, and I saw the hunger flare in her eyes. She eyed me like a lion with an antelope.

"Don't you dare fucking move" she hissed, as she slid out from behind the desk and prowled towards me, her eyes fixed on my hands, holding the skirt up around my waist now.

"I don't intend to Naomi" I said, the lust in my own voice deepening my usual tone

"I might moan a bit though, is that OK?"

Again the growl. She closed on me and brushed her soft lips across mine. Not kissing, more marking her territory. I felt my knees tremble as she invaded my space. Again the brush of lips, but this time her tongue slipped across my bottom lip and away. I swayed with the sensory overload and almost overbalanced.

Her left hand came up behind my head and softly cupped me. I leaned forwards and we shared a soft and intense kiss, just enjoying the taste of each other. Soon it deepened, and her other hand ran fingernails up my arm and up under my chin. I trembled with the intensity of the lust powering through me like a pure amphetamine rush. Her hand left my chin and slipped down my body, owning it.

"Stay still" she ordered, and I loved the way she took control in moments like this

Her head dipped and she ran her pink tongue across my cream silk blouse, teasing my nipple out from my breast. I gasped then. It was electric. The small wet spot she left on the material surrounded my erect nipple darkly.

Not soon enough for me, I heard her knees hit the carpet, and she gazed up at me, as I stood there with my skirt pushed up high.

"This is for you, OK?" she breathed, and I nodded, my throat constricted with the heat she was generating in my stomach and below.

She looked at me then, right at my centre, and I knew, that even though we only had a few minutes at best, this would feel sensational. How could it not?

She blew a small jet of warm air at me, and the thin silk rippled. I jerked as if I had been shot, she knew exactly what the effect was on me.

"Fuck Naomi" I said through gritted teeth "Just do it, OK"

She grinned up at me, a sly look in her eyes

"Does the Governor want Naomi Campbell to lick her pussy then?" she said and the words had their desire effect.

"I may not be that kind of girl" she teased "Then again I may be..."

"Just fucking... just..." I managed before falling silent in the face of her teasing

"OK honey" she breathed, sending another gust of tantalising warm air against my throbbing clit "Let me make you scream"

And she did. She pulled the loose material to one side and I heard her breath catch as she smelt my desire and saw me naked there for the first time.

"No more teasing" she said, and this time her voice was almost reverent at what she was about to do.

She leaned forward, sliding her hands behind me, cupping my bum tightly in her warm hands. I felt her breath again, but before I could register another twitch of response, she ran her warm wet tongue up and down my folds sensuously and agonisingly slowly. I nearly collapsed then, and my hands dropped the skirt so that it enclosed her hands and mouth. She leaned back and pulled the material aside, I suppose wanting me to see as well as feel what she was about to do.

"Shhh" she whispered. "This is something I've wanted to do to you since we were 15"

And she started. Long slow licks, moaning herself as she tasted me, dipping her tongue deep inside and then out, all the time taking a second to circle my almost painfully hard clit. I lost it then. I grabbed two handfuls of her platinum hair and rammed my aching centre into her talented mouth. She gently sucked on my clit and blew air on it alternately, making me ache for release. We set up a pretty rapid rhythm, her sucking and licking, me bucking and grabbing handfuls of her hair. God knows how I stopped myself from howling like a wolf, the exquisite sensations were nearly too much to bear.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" I managed, unable to articulate any more than basic Anglo Saxon by then.

She was moaning with me,although she was muffled by the closeness of her mouth to my sex. I felt her reach up and delve inside me with a long enquiring finger. That was all it took. My back arched and I pulled her hair even more. Damn, it must have been painful, but she took it like a trooper. I spasmed once, twice, three times in quick succession, then again. This was an orgasm to rival anything I had ever experienced before. She carried on licking until I pushed instead of pulled her head, unable to stand the sensitivity there now. My clit ached in entirely pleasurable agony.

She looked up at me then, my excitement still wet on her lips, her eyes burning with suppressed need. I pulled her up by the arms, letting my skirt fall back over the fancy underwear. I kissed her hard and passionately, tasting my own climax on her warm and wet lips. I didn't care, I had never done that before, but then Naomi Campbell was making me do an awful lot of things I had never done before. When the kiss ended, I pulled away and went to run my own hands down her body, but she stopped me.

"No Emily" she said and I stared back at her, uncertain about her change of mood

"When you go down on me, I want it to be special, somewhere you and I will have time to finish what we started"

"So when you go down on me, its OK against the library door, but not good enough for you" I said far too harshly, and immediately regretted it when her eyes flashed a hurt look back at me

"Oh babe", I said quickly "That was a fucking stupid thing to say, I'm just disappointed I can't take care of you, the way you just have me"

Her eyes still looked wounded, but her words reassured me.

"I want that to be _**my**_ special time, this time was for _**you**_" She said simply, and I had to accept her logic. There was little enough time for one of us to get off, two would be pushing the chances of getting caught very high indeed.

I pulled her close and kissed her with more compassion than passion. She relaxed into the kiss and stroked my hair gently, kissing my neck before whispering in my ear

"Tonight at 11, I expect you to give me some relief Emily Fitch"

I shuddered at the closeness of her lips even though it had only been seconds from my shattering orgasm.

"I promise next time will just be for you my angel" I said in a voice stoned with love

She nodded and moved to one side so I could adjust my skirt and try to make myself look like a Governor on her rounds instead of a woman who had just been licked into a frenzy by another girl.

We looked at each other for a long moment before she reluctantly moved back behind the desk. She had her back to me for a second, and I could see she was doing something with a gel pen, but by the time she turned round, her face was blank and emotionless.

I pulled open the door and turned for one last look at my love. Her eyes blazed at me with that blue glow I loved so much

"Just one thing Emily" she smiled cheekily, and I knew I was in for one of those Campbell last words she loved so much

"Go on" I said mock wearily and looked at her as she raised her middle finger to her lips

I read the word ; Y' written down the finger, and as I absorbed what she meant, she sucked the rigid finger slowly in and then out of her pretty mouth.

She showed me the wet finger, and smiled again

"Me, you and my middle finger have an appointment at 11, yeah?"

Jesus, my knees nearly went again as I walked wobbling from the library. Thank Christ there were no curious eyes on me. That girl is going to kill me with her sense of humour, I thought...

Next morning after she had kept her promise,and the phone lines between Larkwood and my mobile had burned hot into the night, I contemplated the problems we had. One, she was a convicted criminal. With nothing realistic to appeal on. Two, she had only been with us on Cat C a couple of weeks, so any chance of day work outside was unlikely. I had already gone out on a limb, giving her a library job, so any more favours would probably alert my boss to a potential problem relationship.

So what were the chances of getting her out for the day? Not good, I admitted to myself. But I was desperate to give her something to hang on to, something to look forward to apart from getting to go down on me up against the library door. I felt a bit ashamed for my selfishness in getting her to do that, but to be honest, I had` worked myself up into such anticipation by the time I walked in, my head was sending signals that my libido was ignoring.

I remembered she had told me about this friend Effy Stonem. Wasn't she a sort of fuck buddy Naomi had been close to on the outside? Maybe she could engineer some spurious family bereavement or something. I was empowered to issue Naomi with a day parole pass, as long as she was accompanied. Perhaps it was time to get some help from another source, I wondered...

Two days later, Naoms and I had got together a sketchy plan. It might not work, but it was worth a try .I was to meet this Effy Stonem on my day off and, after we put our heads together, come up with something that would get Naoms out on day licence, with yours truly as her official escort. What could possibly go wrong?

So there I was, sitting in my car in Victoria Square, Clifton, waiting for the mysterious Effy. Naomi had given me a run down on their previous friendship. Effy had been one of Naomi's earlier lovers, although she assured me that it was always on an occasional, loose end type of arrangement. The sort of arrangement where if they both lucked out when out on the hunt, as Naomi charmingly put it, it would result in some mutual girl/girl loving after the clubs closed, not spoken about in the morning or until they both needed each others 'services' again. She had also told me that Effy was primarily hetero, but viewed sex with either gender as a normal bodily function that required regular attention, rather like cutting your nails or ex foliating. It sounded a pretty cold blooded arrangement to me, but what the actual fuck, since when was I an expert on relationships?

Anyway, I was sitting in my car, early evening, waiting for the said Miss Stonem to arrive. Clifton is nice, a sort of Greenwich Village of Bristol, all bistros, quirky shops and restaurants, so I was pretty cool about hanging about there. It wasn't as if it was St Paul's, with those nice burnt out cars and quaint fridge shaped garden furniture...

As I daydreamed, someone appeared at the side window and tapped on the glass. I jumped a bit, but sent the window down with a smooth electric purr (Did I mention how I love my Gti? Oh I did, sorry!)

She certainly wasn't what I was expecting. From Naomi's description, I thought she would be a lot harder faced. This girl was tall, willowy and dressed in a flimsy blue chiffon type dress which certainly didn't disguise the fact that she was braless, and possibly pant less too. Topping off the outfit were a pair of DM's with orange knee socks. Wallflower material she wasn't. Her face was as impressive as the rest of her and as she smiled and flashed her huge eyes at me I found myself shamelessly checking her out. As she climbed in the car on the passenger side I caught a glimpse of her long legs and just a nanosecond confirmation that she was indeed knickerless. I felt my face go warm as she smiled an enigmatic smile at my clumsy leching, but it was a smile of almost weary acceptance, rather than annoyance. I managed to avert my eyes as her small tits bounced prettily as she pulled over the seat belt. Jesus Emily, I thought to myself, checking out your girlfriends fuck buddy on first meeting is possibly a little out of order?

Luckily she spent the next five minutes looking out of the side window, tapping her finger on her smooth bare knee (stop it Ems) as my monster speakers blasted some Arcade Fire into her ears. I went to turn it down, but her look as I did so made me turn it back up. Well check one for Effy for taste, I thought.

We` arrived at the small Italian restaurant she had picked for our 'conference' and I was again seriously impressed when we sat down as she had a long and animated conversation with the waiter in Italian. Fuck me, bi lingual and bisexual, what more could a girl want? Again I gave myself a mental slap round the head for perving on this strange ethereal girl with the 'who gives a fuck' attitude.

Gnocchi with spinach, washed down with an ice cold white, followed by a delicious Penne with a rich tomato sauce made for a conversation piece and I found myself opening up to her way more than I had intended. By the time we got to the Tiramasu, I was getting very mellow and the wine was loosening my tongue, especially when the waiters came over with some complimentary Grappa, which burned my throat but left a warm glow in my stomach which stayed with me for an age.

"So" Effy said quietly when the hovering waiter had had enough of looking at our tits "How are we going to get the beautiful Naomi out of that fucking shit hole"

Part of me bristled at that. I had worked very hard to make sure my wing at least wasn't anything resembling Styal or Holloway. They really were shit holes. But I guess to anyone who had never encountered either, prison was prison.

"Look Effy" I said, leaning closer so the diners opposite couldn't hear "I'll do whatever I can to help her. After all, I fucking love her" I almost choked on my words as I realised that this was the first time I had ever admitted it to anyone other than Naomi,

Effy raised a quizzical eyebrow and her smile widened "I really hope so" she said "If you break her heart, I'll hunt you down like a dog" Despite her smile, I got the message loud and clear

"OK, Effy, what's the story between you two. I mean, she's told me some stuff, but..."

"You want details?"` she smirked "Well, there was that spin the bottle party where some random had a huge stash of MDMA which blew us all into the Bristol Channel. Although I think maybe me and Naoms agreeing to do a demo 69 for the straight girls wasn't the best idea. Things got out of hand a bit after that"

I spluttered on my Grappa so much the waiter came over with another carafe of water.

"Fucks sake Effy" I choked "WAY too much detail, huh?"

She smirked again and I realised she had been stringing me along maybe just a bit.

"Oh" she grinned, "and there was that time with the Duracells"

"Fuck off" I laughed. That girl doesn't need batteries, her tongue works on nuclear fuel rods"

This time Effy choked on her grape spirit, and the carafe of water got another caning.

We left the restaurant without making much progress on the plan front, but at least were sort of friends. I liked her. She was open, honest and completely outrageous, and it was very hard to dislike someone who patently didn't give a fuck about what people thought.

So when she invited me in for coffee at her apartment in Victoria Square. I thought, why not

What could possible go wrong?

**Well what could go wrong between them?**

**Answers on a postcard please. No, not really, The next chapter will be up by the weekend, fear not (hello, is anyone actually listening?) **

**Review please, it makes me smile like a fool!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N**

**First, thanks again for the lovely reviews. It makes it all worth while! There was a ****f*****ck up on posting my last chapter, so if anyone wonders why the hell Emily would be turned on so much by Naomi sucking her own finger, it was because I wrote that Naomi inked **_** Y**_** down her middle finger , but when it was posted, it just came out a **_**Y**_**! Which is why it read so strange... duh, proof it Nancy I hear you say!**

**Anyway, I have two hours here, so I thought I 'd see if I could get down 3000 words or so to take this story on a bit. **

Emily

Coffee turned into a couple of large vodka and cranberries, then Effy produced a spliff, and my inhibitions seemed to disappear with the blue smoke that curled from the joint. Wherever she got the stuff, it was ace blow, and although I have not had much to do with puff since I left Uni (Having a boyfriend who is a Detective Sergeant puts a bit of a damper on illegal substances stashed in the flat) I could tell after two drags that it was powerful gear. My eyesight suddenly got way more colour sensitive.

By the time we got to the second joint, Effy was sitting far too close to me, and seemed to enjoy my obvious discomfort as she pressed one bare thigh against my own. I had a horrible feeling I knew where this would all end if I wasn't careful.

"So Emily" she breathed, passing me the spliff for the third time "Are you an adventurous girl?"

I took in the sight of this formidable girl/woman sitting next to me and I swear I could feel my heart banging against my chest from inside. Her already revealing skirt had ridden up on her smooth naked thigh until it was only just hiding the fact that she was knickerless underneath it. Her left boob kept grazing my arm as she leaned over and swapped the joint. I may not be Sherlock H of Baker Street W1, but that was definitely an erect nipple rubbing suggestively up and down my upper arm . It suddenly seemed far too hot in this flat, but as I was only wearing a light summer dress with a gold chain holding it in around my waist, I could hardly take anything else off.

"Err, in what way Effy?" I stalled nervously

"Come on babes" she grinned "We're both big girls now. You must have had some adventures in your time. Spill the beans"

I knew this situation was rapidly spinning out of control. Much like my brain which was now in full reckless mode. The vodka and puff was playing havoc with my sensible head, and the crazy head I had worn on that night out with Sophia was almost fully in charge. Luckily, just the thought of the predatory Sophia seemed to open a chink of light in my dark fuddled thought processes.

"Eff" I said, more firmly than I felt "We're supposed to be here tonight thinking up a way of getting my _**girlfriend**_ out of prison for a while. Not getting high and making out"

She smirked that oh so smug Effy smile and stared into my rapidly blinking eyes

"Who said anything about you fucking me, babes?"

I reddened so much I thought my face would set fire to my eyebrows.

"Hmm, well, You _are_ getting a bit close, umm... physically, and with the booze and the drugs.. well you know, things sometimes happen.." I finished lamely

"Not unless you really _want_ it Emily, but I agree, it's not a bad idea , seeing as you seem to be hoping for it" she smiled. I swayed slightly as she held my eyes with hers. This girl was a skilled hunter, and I was definitely being reeled in.

She leaned even closer, her breast flattening against me, confirming without a doubt that her nipples were indeed excited. And by the way, I knew for a fact that mine were too, not to mention the definite dampness I was now sitting in. Fuck, she was so hot with that wild hair, red lips and bottomless blue eyes...

I started. Blue eyes. Shit. What was I thinking. There was only one pair of blue eyes I needed right now, and they were paler, brighter and currently residing in the face of someone I had only recently told I loved them. My brain suddenly snapped into clear focus and I pushed myself back on the leather couch, putting distance between us, and moving temptation at least out of actual arms reach. What the fuckedy fuck was I _thinking_ of. I was pissed, stoned and 5 miles from home sitting with a practised seducer. I could be in real trouble here.

Effy smiled again, but this time it wasn't the smile of a predator about to get its prey. Suddenly there was real humour there.

"Only kidding" she said, but neither of us bought _**that**_ Christmas wrapped parcel.

She shrugged. "Naoms would probably kill me anyway... But old habits and all that?"

She flashed me an exaggerated wink and stage whispered "Mind you, if you ever change your mind..." She blew me an air kiss and continued "I have this special talent, which the ladies _all_ seem to love" At that, she slid her long pink tongue out and touched the tip of her nose with it.

I felt a spasm in my stomach as I watched her put that lethal weapon back in its holster. Jesus, I thought, the damage she could do with that...Some entirely unwanted images flashed across my traitorous mind, involving Effy's tongue and a pair of parted thighs, which I instantly recognised as my own. I gulped noisily as I tried to get some control of my raging libido, which caused her to giggle even more loudly. Fuck, I thought, I bet she knows exactly what I was thinking.

Later I was to find out that Effy had a lifetimes experience of seeing into minds, so I wasn't far wrong.

"OK" she said after a silence that seemed to last and ice age. "We'd better start thinking instead of just eye fucking then" Again that wink. My heart pounded again, but I recognised she was really just teasing now.

We talked for another half hour and made some plans. Effy was going to visit Gina, Naomi's mother to get some ideas about how to engineer some compassionate parole. Although Naomi hadn't been in touch with her mother for a long while, Effy said she had regularly spoken to her about her wayward daughter. Gina knew Effy had been writing to Naomi on and off, so used that line of communication to keep tabs on what was happening to her daughter in prison. Although neither of them had visited my girlfriend for over 2 years, I knew that Naomi had sent Effy a Visiting Order last week. So she was planning on coming down to the prison this weekend.

I gave Effy a list of the reasons permissible for day release and told her I would personally monitor any decisions about that. As Wing Governor, I had the power to authorise anyway, so unless it was a completely spurious request, I was pretty confident I could get it through the admin system. The Number One Governor rarely bothered himself with such day to day stuff, so I reckoned it would be a goer if we played it right.

It was nice just talking to Effy about my Naoms, even if she did like to shock me with the frequent use of lurid anecdotes about their younger activities. I had no idea Naomi was such a player in her college days. I had certainly lived a very much more conventional life up till now. Threesomes and exhibitionism weren't things I had ever had the chance to explore, certainly after I met Danny. The thought of my ex fiancée made me feel a bit uncomfortable. It occurred to me that I had basically been living a complete lie for the past two or three years. One kiss from Naomi had been the catalyst for my whole life to spring into sharp new focus. And when I split from Danny, and then stormed out of the prison bitter with jealousy over Naomi's imminent shag with Ellie, I hadn't gone to the nearest bar and dropped my knickers for the first guy to get me pissed. Oh no. I had gone out and deliberately offered myself to a _girl_ who would basically shag me senseless any time, anywhere. _Sophia_.

Jesus, Emily, I thought. Since when did coming out of the closet become so easy?

Effy finally looked at her huge black men's wristwatch and stood up.

"Its 12 o clock Ems" she said "Time for bed"

My nervousness came back with a vengeance. I definitely couldn't drive home after the vodka and spliffs, but there was no way I could trust myself to share a bed with the oh so sexual Effy Stonem. I already knew that I had trouble keeping my legs together clothed. Naked, I would be an easy target. Yet again, Effy did her mind reading thing and shook her head.

"No hun" she said "Not in my bed. That would be far too tempting for both of us" Her eyebrow arched in amusement at my obvious discomfort at her accuracy.

"The spare bedrooms next to mine. I have a clean tee shirt you can sleep in"

I stood and followed her to the hallway, and then into her bedroom. The room was big, decorated in pure white, and in semi darkness as the drapes were closed. A huge polished wood four poster stood in the centre, covered in matching Egyptian cotton cream covers. I could see about 5 grand there at least. Effy Stonem obviously had considerable buying power. I wondered what job she actually did when she wasn't seducing Civil Service middle managers.

She crossed to a huge stripped pine chest of drawers and pulled open the top one. Tossing me a folded plain white tee, she turned and faced me.

"Not going to change your mind about joining me on the Kama Sutra bed?" she nodded in the direction of that four poster, which I would imagine had more notches than a guns slingers pistol butt. "No girl has ever left there with any of her inhibitions intact" she grinned "They all fall to the power of the pussy", So not really serious, I was pleased to see.

"No thanks Eff" I smiled "I love someone, and she'll be waiting for me to phone her right now" I grabbed the tee from her outstretched hand and fled before my resolve failed. She threw me a parting shot, which I guess was a legacy of spending all that time with Naomi

"Try not to make too much noise phoning her" she smirked "I might be 'busy' myself, since you are _obviously_ immune to my _considerable_ charms"

My eyes went wide as she reached down to the hem of her short dress and pulled it over her head in one move, dropping it to the floor. She turned towards me as I started to flee the room. I was left with the memory of that totally naked beautiful body and her knowing smile watching my extremely flustered exit.

Once safely in the spare room, I stripped off my dress and underwear and pulled her loaned tee over my head. I slipped under the duvet cover and groaned as the room span slowly. Gradually it ground to a halt and I leaned over the side of the bed, pulling my pay as you go spare mobile from my bag.

I knew it was later than usual, but quickly sent a text to Naomi

"_Sleeping in Effy's spare room, Too much voddy and weed_!"

It was about 2 minutes later that my phone buzzed with a message

"_Not shagging her then?_"

I texted her back immediately

"_NO! - why would you think that babe?_"

Again the minute wait

"_I know Effy. Go ahead lie to me. Say she didn't try ;P_"

I thought about lying to Naomi, for about half a nanosecond. Then decided it was pointless

"_Of course she did. I said no_"

She answered me faster this time

"_I bet you were tempted tho? I **know** what that fucking tongue can do!"_

I grinned in the dark. Bitch! I bet she does.

"_Oh yeah, and should I be jealous?"_

The phone buzzed seconds later

"_Well, there was that time on the Bristol Rovers centre circle at half time"_

I laughed out loud. Even these two wouldn't.. would they?

I thumbed a quick reply

"_I'm going to phone you. I need some Naomi loving right now"_

The reply was immediate

"_And I need my Emsy tonight xx"_

My heart ached for her as I realised how lonely she must be, and what a hard thing this must be for her to so, basically pushing me into the arms of her ex

I speed dialled her number quickly.

After we had spoken for a few minutes, just telling each other how much we loved and missed each other, the talk soon dived below the waist. I was still a little buzzed, and Naomi was never one to hold back on the phone sex front. Biting into the soft pillow, I got my release in no time, and was rewarded with some very Anglo Saxon expletives from my lover on the other end as she gave herself release.

Next morning, at about 9, I woke and padded into the lounge. There was no one there, but I could hear coffee cups chinking and a kettle boiling. When I walked into the kitchen, Effy was standing at the counter, dressed in white bra and boxer shorts, watching the toaster with bleary eyes. I was pleased to see that she seemed to be suffering more than me. My head was surprisingly clear, considering the mixture of brain altering substances I had taken last night. Wine, grape spirit, vodka and skunk make a potent combination.

"Morning" I said brightly

She looked at me with eyes way too old for her years

"Yeah, morning" she said with a voice freshly bruised by cigarettes and substance abuse

"Coffee?" she nodded towards the bubbling coffee machine on the black counter

"Great" I said and grabbed a shiny white mug from the rack.

Drinking the strong roast, I smiled to myself, remembering some of the more lurid fantasies Naomi had whispered into my ear last night before hanging up

"Good nights sleep?" Effy sat across from me at the pine kitchen table "Sounded like it"

I flushed again and lowered my eyes

"Sorry" I muttered "Was I a bit loud?" Fuck, I thought, Embarrassed, much?

She grinned cheerfully "Actually I didn't hear a thing, but thanks for confirming what I suspected"

"Bitch" I laughed at her slyness.

"Anyway" she said, before swallowing a mouthful of coffee "I was otherwise occupied myself. Had a little session with my battery powered friend, thinking about a cute redhead with small but perfectly formed tits"

This time I spluttered a good amount of my brew over my chin, which made her laugh out loud.

"God, you're easy to tease Emily" she chuckled "I bet Naomi can drive you wild in about 30 seconds, given her vivid imagination"

I said nothing, but my raised eyebrows and red cheeks gave her all the answer she needed.

30 minutes later, I was showered, dressed and in my Gti, back on the ring road to my flat. I had another late shift tonight, and I knew someone who deserved a bit of personal counselling. Quite a bit in fact. Effy was off to see Gina. Things were moving.

**Well. This is by way of a filler chapter, as next up, I have James Cook, Sophia and a certain Bristol gangster with an uncanny resemblance to Gareth from the Office. Ring any bells? The plot is about to get rather more hardcore. So review, and review some more! It makes me happy! The next chapter will be up on Tuesday. I have a day off, Yay!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N **

**Hi all. Glad to see at least some of you are still reading. Its a labour of love really, so even if one person other than me likes it, that's OK, I will still post chapters until I run out of new ideas (I heard that resigned groan...) So there!**

**This chapter is mainly from Naomi's POV, but I may, if my fingers still work, post a little Emily follow up chapter, just because I have time today, and I know how _I_ love to read an extra long chapter from one of _my_ favourite authors...**

**I've pretty much given up trying to explain the writing on Naomi's finger because the formatting on here seems determined to erase all letters other than the Y, but I am sure you will all be aware of whose name was on it! Lol.**

**Anyway, big shout out to TillyHo, Macrocosm, . , marsupial1974,, Omni-Obiter and Tanner 12 for reviewing my story. Thanks guys, it means a lot.**

**So...**

Naomi

Life has settled down quite a bit in Her Majesties Hotel Larkwood recently. OK, I haven't had the opportunity to get any meaningful 'me' time with Emily in the past week, but after her visit to Effy, which thank God didn't involve her succumbing to my one time fuck buddies insatiable libido, we have the semblance of a plan. I resisted one thing for a couple of days, but to be honest, Emily has such an influence on me now, I find that instead of doing my usual ice queen impression when things don't go according to 'project Naomi', I sit down with her and talk about it, and she finds a way to make me understand and do what she says. Bitch! So I agreed to send a letter to my long suffering mum. She will be dancing round the kitchen as we speak, with my letter in her hand, if I know her, and the postman is doing his job.

My sweet little stalker Ellie has found a new playmate. A new transfer from Holloway called Dalisay (she's Filipino) who looks about 12, but apparently is at the back end of a 9 year sentence for drug smuggling. How she managed to secrete about 20 bags of high quality Charlie inside her is a mystery, but she obviously has hidden depths... Ellie is smitten, and judging by the moans and shrieks coming from her room most nights, the two of them are busy smuggling tongues and fingers on a regular basis. I did laugh thought, when the girl told me her name meant **pure** in Tagalog... That's a whole rewrite of the Oxford Dictionary description of THAT word!

Anyway. Effy came up to see me on Saturday, looking as usual, like a wet dream come to life. Most of the gay cons and a good percentage of the screws looked like they needed a change of underwear imminently when she sashayed in wearing a very short sheer cream silk dress, obviously (and inevitably with Effy) sans bra. Her nipples were like targets when she bounced over to my table and most eyes in the room followed them like heat seeking missiles. Quite a few boyfriends and a couple of girlfriends got slaps round the head as they swivelled to watch her progress.

Of course, she made a big show of French kissing me hello, and if I hadn't been permanently high on Emily Fitch nowadays, I would have joined the queue for new knickers. It was pleasant, but really just for show. I thanked Christ I had pre warned Emily about Effy's usual over the top greetings, so even if she did review the cctv footage, it wouldn't be too much of a nasty shock to her system.

We had a really good talk, and I apologised about 50 times for freezing her out over the past year or so. Effy, of course, waved away my feeble attempts at diplomacy. She was never one for small talk, so we spent the hour developing the plan for my day release and catching up on what and who was happening in the outside world. Apparently, Cook was one of Johnny Whites right hand men now, and even if he had got a severe beating for losing a weeks worth of dealers gear in the boot of the car I was 'driving', it obviously hadn't dented his long term career prospects with the king of Bristols underworld. Panda and Thomas were still in the States and looked like staying there. Effy had only once seen JJ since our college days, so she had no news on him except he was still a geek, albeit with a live in partner and child. JJ and I had never been close, so I didn't ask any more.

Effy was all praise for Emily, so I basked in the positive glow I got from my best friends approval for my new 'girlfriend' Being Effy, of course, she wanted chapter and verse about our pitifully few sexual encounters, but I glossed over it, not wanting this thing of ours to be categorised by shagging alone. Dammit, I loved her, and I saw the surprise in Effy's face as I flat out admitted as much.

"Fuck me Campbell" she said, that enigmatic grin on her face as always "The ice queen melts. I never thought..."

"Fuck off, Eff " I grinned, embarrassed to fuck "Me and Emily...we're special, right?"

After a second, the grin faded and she held my hand in her small one, looking right into my eyes. The old Stonem hypnosis almost had me for a second, but she tightened her grip as I made to pull away.

"No" she said, suddenly serious "Its cool, really. I just..." she hunted for the words, another Effy first " want you to be sure about this. You aren't used to like, letting your guard down with anyone. Let alone one of the Feds" she grinned, and I flipped her off.

"I'm sure" I said, laughing out loud for the first time in an ice age, it seemed " Naomi Campbell shagging a member of the establishment. My mum will die of embarrassment. Cities have crumbled and civilisations collapsed for less"

We giggled companionably for a moment before returning to the important things we needed to talk about. Not that Emily wasn't important, but time was getting shorter. A bit like Effy's dresses...

So, Effy was going to do some detective work, digging around, with the help of one of Emily's contacts in the CPS. I was hopefully going on a days compassionate leave to my mums house, supposedly to visit my dying bed bound father. (Yeah, I know. My mum hasn't seen the little shit for 24 years, but as Effy said, it's about time he performed one decent act for his flesh and blood, even if he knew fuck all about it.)

We parted with another pseudo erotic kiss, and I couldn't resist a giggle as Effy cupped my jean clad arse in both hands and rocked our hips together suggestively. If Emily DID watch the monitor recordings afterwards, she would NOT be a happy bunny. My wicked side smirked a bit, which was mean, I know. Let's just say I haven't had a complete personality change, despite the best efforts of my little red head.

Back in my room, I laid on the bed and daydreamed for a bit. Emily was off this weekend, so I knew she would be ringing tonight, maybe a nap now would make it easier to stay awake for her midnight call. My appetite was suppressed after the excitement of Effy's visit, so I made myself a cinnamon hot chocolate and after sipping it, drifted off into a light doze.

_Bristol. 4 years earlier_

_My elbows were sore from resting on the scummy mirror bar in front of me. It was almost midnight, and fucking Cook was nowhere to be seen. We were supposed to meet at 10, but he was way beyond late. I had nursed this JD and Coke for half an hour now, and as my pockets were pretty much empty, if he didn't turn up soon, I would go home sober and completely fed up. The club was only half full, and the lame DJ was blasting our ears with some techno shit for the umpteenth time tonight. A few girls had given me the eye so far, but to be honest, I couldn't be fucking bothered. At least one of them, a willowy student type with a blonde pony tail (does anyone seriously go out with a pony tail for Christ's sake?) seemed vaguely familiar. Oh yeah, Sarah, wasn't it. Junior Miss Lesbian Track Star 2009 indeed. I remembered another anonymous bar months ago, lots of raw tequila and a frantic against the toilet wall fuck while others waited to use the stall. I grinned inside as I remembered her total embarrassment as we opened the door afterwards. I was, of course, completely unfazed and uninterested in the bitchy lezza comments from the queue. She was obviously mortified, and almost ran out to her waiting friends, lip gloss smeared across her pretty face and her jeans still half buttoned. I walked past them as I left to get another drink. They stared at me as if I had kidnapped her. Fucks sake, she had practically dragged me in there after we had spent the previous 20 minutes eye fucking each other on the dance floor. Now she was getting a severe case of the 'lesbian, who me?, syndrome'_

_Right, I thought. When my hand was in her knickers and her mouth was whispering the "Oh Gods", and "please baby, deeper, faster" she wasn't quite so reluctant. Fuck her then and fuck her now. She was patently checking me out, but I avoided her gaze. Not that I was averse to the odd upright fuck, but I was in a real strop about Cook's no show, so it wasn't a goer, at least not here, now._

_As I sipped the last half inch of my JD, and swivelled on the manky bar stool, ready to get the fuck out of this losers paradise, my ears were assaulted by Cook in full glowing stereo, about a fucking inch from my left ear._

"_**NAOMIKINS**!" he yelled, and I physically flinched at his total fucking inability to use the volume knob._

"_Fuck's sake Cook" I blasted at him, rubbing my probably permanently damaged right ear. "Late, ugly and too fucking **LOUD**" I roared. I followed this up with a hard push to his chest with both hands. This fucker had no concept at all of personal space._

_He grinned, totally unabashed at my reaction. Then I noticed he wasn't alone. Under each arm was a girl. To his left a really tall statuesque South Asian girl of about 20, with long shiny black hair down past her waist and a sullen look on her face. I didn't like her on sight, and met her frown with one of my own. At least she had the grace to dip her eyes as I glared at her. Not my type at all, I thought as Cook introduced her as Mandy._

_The other girl, however was very much my type. About 19, 5'3, same dark hair as the girl on the other side of Cook, obviously also Asian, but very light skinned. Her features were fine and petite, just like her. I noticed that her body was a bit boyish for my taste, but her broad smile at being introduced to me was infectious, and I found myself smiling back before I even registered her name._

"_Naomi, Allie, Allie, Naomi. Right, that's the fucking introductions done. Naoms, Allie is apparently a muff muncher like you, so you'll have to let me look after Mandy all on my own tonight. Sorry mate!"_

_With that he left me with the two girls while he yelled at the bar girl for eight shots of tequila. I rolled my eyes, just to keep my hand in, but secretly I was quite pleased. Despite his fucking mental attitude to life in general, and his utter inability to understand that I would never, ever in the history of the world, let him fuck me, he had an unerring skill at spotting potential shag partners for both of us. Allie was studying me with dark brown liquid eyes, and I wondered how much he had told her about me before getting here._

"_Err" I muttered, conscious of the dark looks I was simultaneously getting from Allies friend as I concentrated on my chosen prey "Not seen you in here before"_

_Nice one Naoms, I thought bitterly, why don't you just come out and say "Do you come here often?". Fucking epic fail mate._

_She didn't seem to notice my temporary loss of coherence, and smiled up at me. _

"_We're flight crew. On an overnight stop on the way back to Singapore. Cook met us in the airport bar and we got chatting"_

_Yeah, I thought dismissively, Cook specialises in chat. For about 30 seconds before he wants to waggle his willy in your direction. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for **that** in depth conversation. Cook is to subtlety what Simon Cowell is to hipsters._

"_Right" I said feigning interest. My mind was already running permutations along the lines of '**Me big lezza, you tiny muff muncher. Ditch Cook and Amazonian sulk monster, find bed. Horizontal you, several orgasms'.**_

_Just then the tequilas slammed on the bar and we were off. Two each, followed by Cook's manic wolf howl. Two more and the shit music being pounded out was suddenly not as shit. Two more followed by a trip to the toilets where the Cook supplied tab of E and line of Charlie on the tiled shelf at the back of the stall ended all resistance. We danced. Well Allie and I briefly danced before falling into each other and basically dry fucked for five minutes. Cook dispensed with all traces of subtlety instantly and carried out a protracted cavity search on Mandy which she wouldn't have got at Bristol Airport. Finally, even the tolerant bouncers got fed up of separating him from his mobile finger receptacle and moved us on. Effy had arrived by then, with a little redhead with freckles and spectacular tits. Oh, I thought, Effy's having a bi night. Shame I missed it. We had shared some spectacular moments on her four poster on the odd occasion she wasn't worshipping the old pork sword. Which was most nights, to be honest._

_The six of us moved on to another bar, but the E's and coke were kicking in big time, so it was inevitable we would end up back at Effy's flat. Libido's were out and proud that night._

_By the time we all tumbled into Effy's bedroom, all bets were off. I am not a big fan of exhibitionism, but I only had eyes for my little Asian hottie, and she was quite obviously wearing far too many clothes for my liking. I dumped her on the four poster, watching her little tits bounce prettily as she collapsed onto her back, the short skirt riding up to show a very small pink thong covering the place I wanted to spend the night exploring. Watching her with eyes hot with lust, I stripped my top over my head, watching her eyes light up as my purple bra came into view. I unclipped it and let it fall to the floor beside the bed. Her big eyes crawled over my tits and I wanted her hands to follow them. My jeans slid to the floor too, and the girl boxers I usually wore joined them in double quick time. I vaguely remembering hearing Mandy moan somewhere in the room, but a small piece of my brain retained enough sense not to look at what what was happening. Effy had disappeared into the lounge with her little ginger fuck bunny. I was pretty sure that Eff's tongue would be adding its magic to proceedings very soon. Not to mention her collection of, ummm, sexual aids. I had personal experience of Eff's preference for oversized strap ons, so it was highly likely her freckle faced baby would be getting some of that treatment in short order._

_But I was more interested in the girl who was awkwardly stripping off her clothes whilst trying to keep her eyes on my personal attributes. I took pity on her drunken flailing and offered my assistance. Soon we were both naked and having some quality kissyface time. Her mouth was lush and responsive. Our tongues collided beautifully and with her tits pressed to mine and her knee rubbing me very energetically between my legs, I was soon enjoying the hell out of this Oriental shag toy. I licked her, she came, she licked me, I came. We briefly took a breather side by side, trying to block out the moans coming from the other side of the thankfully semi dark bedroom. Cook was obviously getting Mandy used to his caveman technique, because her moans weren't the sort I had just produced with Allie. They sounded to me like the sounds women make when they are actually thinking that the bedroom ceiling needs a new coat of emulsion. Not that Cook usually cared anyway. Five minutes hide the finger, a quick insertion and he was off. Or so Effy had told me. Personally, I had no wish whatsoever to find out._

_Despite the faintly off-putting sounds coming from a few feet away, Allie and I were ready for round two. I remember flipping her onto her back and having to stop quickly because the room swirled round me like a ride on a fairground waltzer. The E's must have been mucho strong because it had been a couple of hours now and the rush was still happening. Usually I am fine after then, just the old Campbell libido is on overdrive, the rest I can control, but this stuff was epic. I made a mental note to get Cook to deal me a couple of dozen for future nights._

_After the room stabilised, I knelt carefully over my dark skinned lover. Pushing her legs open wide I dipped my head and began to enjoy her exotic taste all over again. She got the message instantly and bucking up to meet my tongue, she slid her hands round my hips and pushed her face up, extending her tongue to tease and dip into me. We settled into a happy rhythm. Licking and moaning into each other. I vaguely registered the bedroom door opening and hearing a brief whispered conversation. But I was busy, alright?_

_So when the bed dipped behind me, I guessed it was Effy, fresh from driving ginger into the heights of ecstasy, eager to carry on the excesses. It wouldn't have been the first time she had joined me with a new lover. Trust me, with her tongue and her impressive collection of battery powered toys, she certainly knew how to make the party go with a swing. I felt fingertips stroke my side and grinned, even as I deepened my exploration of Allies sex. Then something hard and bulbous pushed against my folds, and I braced myself for Effy to push inside me. Oh fuck, I thought. I hope its not that fucking huge black strap on. The only time she had ever used that on me before, I swear to God it went so deep I could fucking taste it..._

_Even with Allies frantic licking and my own excitement at having my mouth over her, something just didn't feel right. The dildo was too smooth, too flexible. My fuddled brain kept saying, its OK, just go with it, but my instinct told me to question what was happening. Too late. Just as I lifted my head and said "What the fuck" I felt the whole thing slide right inside me. I felt the unmistakeable brush of flesh on my bum, but not the smooth, silky feel of Effy's thighs, but the rough, hairy body of a man. And in an instant I knew just who that man was. I reared up and screamed at him "Cook, what the fuck are you... **NO**!"_

_His hands then gripped my hips like a vice and I felt him start to jack hammer away at me. I roared out my anger at him, almost hysterical. "Get the fuck OUT of me Cook, you animal!"_

_He took no notice of course, determinedly pounding away at me, his strong hands pulling me back on to his cock. The girl underneath me tried to wiggle free of us, but we got tangled, me desperate to get this fucker out of my body, her desperate to escape whatever was happening above her. Just when I though, with a mind swirling with dark desolate despair that I was going to have to let this bastard come in me, I saw light at the bedroom door and the next thing was a dull, wet thump and Cook was falling away from me, his erection slapping against his stomach as he collapsed onto his back on the bed. I sprang up with pure murder in my mind. The only time I had ever had a cock in me was when I was 16, and the (mercifully short) experience had put me off for life. Never in a million years would I have let James Cook put that fucking baby lighthouse in me willingly, and I had only one thing in mind, to kill him as he lay there. _

_It was Effy who stopped me. She grabbed me round the waist, dropping the brass figure she had used to knock him unconscious and despite my frantic attempts to escape, finally her soothing words and iron grip stopped me from immediate homicide._

_Finally she let me go, making sure she was between me and him. He still laid, flat on his back, a large and darkening bump appearing over his left eye, where Effy had cracked him a good one. I ran to the bathroom then. I vaguely remember seeing Allie gathering up her clothes and running for the lounge. Where the fuck Mandy was, I had no idea. Once in Effy's en suite I turned on the power shower and stood under the water for five minutes, soaping myself over and over, desperate to get the stink and the sensation of that cunt off my body. Finally I stepped out and, without drying myself, threw Effy's clean white fluffy dressing gown over my wet body. I was suddenly, shockingly sober. All traces of the alcohol and drugs seemed to have left my system. Numbness was all I felt. I looked at myself in the mock stage dressing room mirror, seeing a white face, eyes big with shock. I shook with sudden coldness, and pulled the towelling tighter around me. Glancing at the glass shelf, I saw something which I had never noticed before. Effy was into period chic, and on the shelf were two items. A Victorian shaving bowl and brush, never used but decorative, and hanging on a chrome and china stand, something else. A cut throat razor, black onyx handle gleaming in the bright whiteness of the room. I picked it from its stand and flipped the blade free. It gleamed wickedly at me. Six or seven inched of cold scalpel sharp Sheffield steel. _

_Slipping it into my pocket, I went back into the bedroom. Allie and Mandy had gone. Rape probably wasn't on their to-do overnight stay list, I thought grimly as I crossed the soft carpet to the four poster. Effy came back into the room as I reached the side of the bed Cook was lying on, still flat out. She had obviously trailed a sheet over him, because the cause of my hatred was covered. He was just groggily coming round. Eyes rolling, her tried to focus on us standing there._

"_Wh...what the fuck blondie?" he stuttered "Just a bit of fun yeah?" _

_He licked his lips and groaned as the bump on his head must have kicked in a pulse of pain. I smiled at the thought of how shit he must be feeling, and he made the mistake of thinking my smile was for him_

"_Just a bit of fun" he repeated thickly, lifting his hand to trace the purple bump that was still growing over his eye. "You know I've always wanted to fuck you babes, and that Mandy was shit. Like fucking a blow up doll" _

_He tried a weak 'cheeky boy' grin and that did it_

_Effy was mentally onto me in a flash, but she was too late. I flipped over the sheet covering him and grabbed his semi hard cock with my left hand. His smile broadened as his addled mind must have been telling him he had got away with it_

"_Way to go blondie" he grinned, then winced at the movement "Might be a few minutes until I can do round two, but I'm up for it if you are" His eyebrows waggled suggestively, despite the bump._

_Unbelievably, I could feel that hated object stiffening in my hand. Jesus, he would literally fuck anything any time, I thought. Even concussion doesn't stop him. My other hand slid out of the dressing gown pocket and I saw Effy's eyes widen as she saw the gleam of the blade._

_In a second, I had slid the hard steel edge under his cock, just where it met his shaven balls. I saw his face change then. A mixture of surprise, disbelief and then pure naked fear._

"_W..Whoah, Naomi baby" he hissed, his body pushing back into the soft mattress. "No fucking way sweetheart"_

_As he moved his hand across to try to grab my wrist, I pressed lightly on the handle and his hand fell back onto the cotton covers. _

"_OK, OK", he gasped "It's alright, I won't move Naoms, Chillax?"_

_I stared at him, icy calm settling over me. I could see Effy beside me in my peripheral vision, frozen in indecision for once in her entire life._

"_Don't **EVER** call me babes, Naoms or sweetheart again, get it?" I grated in a voice as cold as the steel pressed against his crown jewels._

"_Y...Yeah" he stuttered "Whatever you say b... I mean Naomi" I could see the cold sweat on his brow beading, despite the warmth of the room._

"_You never actually listen, do you Cook?" I said, my voice hoarse with alcohol and stress._

"_When I say I don't like cock. That's a fact, right?"_

_He nodded quickly, eyes searching mine for any sign of weakening in my resolve_

"_And I especially don't want this" I pushed upwards, the blade as close as you can get to breaking the skin without actually puncturing it "near me ever again, get it Cook?" Again the nervous nod_

"_And just so you remember what I'm saying, you fucking rapist bastard" I hissed at him with real venom "This is a reminder"_

_I saw his eyes widen in utter fear as I moved my hand. The stupidly sharp edge needed just the barest of pressure and that's what I gave it. A thin crimson line an inch or so long appeared just at the point where his cock met his balls and instantly bright red blood spurted out onto my wrist. Not deep enough to sever anything, but I knew in a moment, before I moved my hand away and he leapt from the bed with a feral howl, clutching his genitals in both hands, that he wouldn't be using his prick on anyone for a week or so at least._

_The next few minutes passed like a strange dream. Effy gave me one of those long enigmatic stares before leading Cook into the bathroom. After a few minutes they came out, Him in another white robe, the front edge stained brown with blood, his eyes furious and hateful as they stared at me. She had obviously patched him up enough to get him to hospital for some hopefully painful stitches, and I stood there, razor hanging limply from my hand, my eyes staring blankly back at him._

"_You fucking crazy dyke bitch" he growled. "I'll see you in the ground for this"_

_Effy grabbed him by the gown lapels and pushed her face right into his. His eyes left mine and stared into hers_

"_No you won't Cook" she said in a voice low with anger "Because if you touch one hair on her head, rapist" She paused for effect "I will personally see that Mr J White, gangster of this parish, finishes the job our Naoms started tonight...get it?"_

_He blinked at her in disbelief. Effy never got excited about anything, or at least anything that didn't involve an orgasm. It was so far out of his comfort zone, he had nothing to say in answer._

"_Get it Cook?" she said again, pulling him even closer to her face_

_He didn't answer, but his doubtful nod was enough_

"_Now we'd better get you to a nice staff nurse in the hospital, so she can stop your balls falling out of the nice pocket Naomi has stitched for you" she said slowly_

_I called a taxi for them and then sat on the bed for two hours until Effy came home, alone thank God._

_She didn't say much. Took the razor from my nerveless fingers where it had stayed all the time she had been away. Took off my dressing gown. Stripped off her clothes and after pulling the quilt over us, spooned into my back. I cried for an hour until I drifted off in her arms._

Larkwood Prison

I woke with a start, the memory of that night still sharp in my mind. Amazingly enough, Cook forgave me. Well, he seemed to. After a couple of weeks of stilted conversations and guarded looks, we didn't even need Effy to run interference for us. Things would never quite be the same again, and now and then I would catch him looking at me in a strange way when he thought I wasn't looking. But life went on pretty much as before. Of course, he was out of action for almost a month afterwards. The stitches gave way when some overenthusiastic random was blowing him outside a club and after she had run shrieking to the bouncers with blood on her chin, he gave in and allowed the wound to heal properly. But Cook was Cook and soon enough the Cookie Monster was back on the prowl. We never hunted together after that of course. That would have been too weird, I guess. But me and Effy made just as good a team. With the fringe benefits that if we struck out, we had each other to entertain...

I got up and made another drink. The memories had stirred something in me, I don't know what, but I felt unsettled for the first time since Emily and I had hooked up.

I shook myself out of it and looked out of my window. I could just see the lighting gantries of the M5 in the distance. Emily would be with my mum now, getting stories straight for the days parole. I cupped my mug in both hands and smiled a secret smile. Things could only get better, right?

**A/N**

**Hope you were OK with that guys. It was always in my mind to get to this point. Hope things will make sense more now. More angst and plot twists to come. Not to mention lots of mouth watering smut. Most of it involving our favourite girls... or will it hehe...**

**Review, suggest ideas, tell me its crap. Do it!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N**

**OK, so after the intensity of the last chapter (well it was intense for me anyway) I decided to dial it down a bit. One of the things I've noticed about the truly talented writers on here, Hyper, Trufreak, Circle42, MoaningMyrtle and the like is that they use their own particular talents and skills to colour the story. It makes for brilliant reading and of course, they have all the knowledge at their fingertips (or in the case of Myrtle, up her sleeve) Well. I have never been in prison, so that's gone out of the window. But I do play guitar, so you may find some references here that sound smart arse. Sorry, it's the best I can do!**

**So,**

Emily

Standing outside Naomi's house is weird. I've decided that. Its a quite ordinary yellow fronted chalet type house. I suppose strictly speaking it's her mums house. But it's where Naomi grew up, went to school from and left to make her way in the world when she finished education. But I know absolutely nothing about this life. Her mum is a stranger to me. It's only that Effy has told Gina I'm coming which has made this trip possible. I vaguely remember, after _that_ kiss, seeing Naoms on a yellow bus on her way to a school the other side of Bristol once. But at that time I was so deep in denial about the importance of what we had shared that I put my head down and pretended I hadn't seen her. And of course, my fucking permabitch sister had been with me, so it wouldn't have mattered anyway. I had concurred with her version of events so eagerly that everyone I knew thought I had been narrowly saved by Katie from a fate worse than death at the hands of Superlezza. The fact that I had been an willing (no, be honest Emily, fucking eager ) participant in our little clinch was conveniently forgotten by everyone. Well, everyone except me and Naomi of course. The death stare from the bus was evidence of that.

I had parked my car a couple of houses further away to get myself ready for this meeting. Once I was standing outside I took a deep breath, walked up the steps to the door and knocked. There was a low rumbling crash from inside, followed by a female shout of "For fucks sake Kieran, Hurley sticks in the doorway is NOT a good idea!" I grinned to myself. If this was Gina, she wasn't a shrinking violet at least...

The door opened, and a slightly flustered older version of Naomi stood there. OK. She wasn't exactly a platinum blonde, more light brown, irregularly cut. But those eyes were unmistakeable. Ice blue, with black rings round the iris. The sort of eyes I had been having wet dreams about for weeks now (Stop it Emily, its Naomi's _**MUM**_ ffs)

She grinned a natural, open grin. Said simply "You must be Emily, love. You're even prettier than I expected" and pulled the door wide for me to walk in. Except an even more flustered man stopped me in my tracks as he barged past us both, weird shaped hockey stick in his hand and an emerald green Ireland training jacket on. His hair was even messier than Gina's and he had what seemed to be a permanent puzzled expression on his face. I thought for a second about Father Dougal in that old Irish priest sitcom and barely suppressed a giggle. If he had said "Right So Ted.." I might have wet myself on my girlfriends mum's porch.

Gina cuffed him good naturedly on the head as he passed, but his expression never flickered. "Bye then my love" he said as he fled down the garden path "Oh, and Hello Emily!"

I muttered some sort of response, but Gina shushed me and led me into the kitchen. It was a big cluttered space. A huge 10 seater pine table dominated the room. It seemed incongruous in this place, which evidently only had two occupants at the moment, but I took one of the multitude of chairs and sat down to have a chat to my beloveds Mum.

"Right" she said cheerily as I sat there. "Tea?"

"Yes please Mrs Campbell" I said politely

"Mrs Campbell is _**my**_ mum" she grinned "I'm Gina to everyone, even my wayward daughter" I saw a shadow of something pass over her face and realised that her sunny disposition wasn't quite Naomi proof.

Once we had got a large mug of tea in front of us both she looked at me keenly. I realised that Naomi's fierce intelligence was inherited. This woman was no fool.

"So Emily" she said "Tell me why my daughter has finally allowed me back in her life. Oh, and tell me what part you intend to play in her future?"For a small moment, I considered spouting some platitude about Naomi's welfare and me feeling responsible for her, but I saw that she would never wear anything resembling bullshit, so I settled for

"I love her Gina, and I am going to get her out of there, with your help"

Her smile was broader this time and she placed a work hardened palm over my hand as it sat on the thick pine table.

"I love her too, silly little cow" she said with not a trace of malice "And its about time she met someone who really cares about her, apart from me that is"

"Don't get me wrong,love" she said, face serious for a second. This is going to be hard as hell for both of us. But if you genuinely _do_ love my daughter, I can promise you she will give you back more love than any other human being on the planet could"

She took a deep breath and continued " When she was little..." and her eyes went to a photo frame on the dresser, of a young Naomi, probably 7 or 8, sitting on the draining board in this house, by the looks of it, a cheeky grin on her little face.

"...She was my treasure. There wasn't a sunnier, happier, more loving little girl anywhere. But when she was about 12, something happened, I don't know what, and she changed, became defensive, closed off. I suppose I lost her, and I never really got her back"

Her face clouded with the memory and I saw her eyes go bright with tears. To be honest, I could feel myself going a bit too, so when she gripped my hand hard, I gulped the emotion down and squeezed back.

"Gina?" I said "Lets concentrate on one thing at a time. I think there is something that smells totally rancid about her conviction, and I'm going to find out what. And what's more I'm going to do whatever I have to to get her out of there, and back here where she belongs"

I thought it was quite a good little speech, but Gina trumped it.

"Oh no, Emily" she said, her voice firm and definite "Not here. This will _always_ be her home, but the fact that you are sitting here now, added to the fact that Effy seems to think you are quite something special, tells me when you _DO _get my daughter away from that place, there's only one place she will want to be. With you"

She looked at me directly, and I nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's how I feel too. Thank you for understanding

"Shhh" she said "I think we're going to be friends"

I nodded again "I think so too" I said

And so we were. The next hour passed pleasantly. Naomi would have hated it, but I got to see all the childhood photos. School shots of a slightly goofy 12 year old with plaits, seaside pictures of her with an oversized kite. Naomi with Gina, with a small Jack Russell terrier, with another dark haired girl when she was about 16 (Abby, Gina told me conspiratorially, her first love) I felt a pang at that one. Actually, I said tartly, I think _**I **_was her first love. We both burst out laughing at my indignation. I explained about the kiss, and Gina agreed that maybe I was the first after all...

I gave her all the details of the day parole application and she filled it in with my help. I sealed the envelope and tucked it in my bag. I wasn't going to trust the bloody Post Office with something as important as my loves liberty. This envelope was going straight in the admin pile I would open first thing tomorrow. And I would be signing it about 10 seconds later.

I finally left just as Kieran returned. Muddy knees, blackened eye and even dirtier than he left

"Hi Emily" he said brightly as he passed me. "Lovely to meet you"

I grinned at Gina as she cuffed him on the way in and, as he clumped upstairs, hopefully to a bathroom, I went to shake her hand goodbye.

"Fuck off" she said amiably "Give me a hug. You're practically family now"

I did. It was a genuine, mums type hug, and part of me wished my own mum had been this free with her affection.

As I sat in the car, checking my bag, just in case, to make sure the day out application was safely in there, I had a terrible thought.

Fuck. _**Katie**_. Home tonight. Shit! I'd totally forgotten she was due home today. I groaned inwardly at the prospect of her giving me chapter and verse about her latest squeeze and his no doubt magical ability between the sheets. Oh God, I thought. A night in with Katie Fitch. Way to kill a mood Ems.

I took a deep breath and braced myself mentally. Bang goes the midnight sex text. Katie would only just be getting into her stride by then. And what was she going to have to say about Danny boy, much less my budding romance with a convicted felon. Tonight was going to be interesting, that's for sure.

The drive back to my flat was a bit less pleasant than the outward journey. When I got back, thank God she hadn't yet descended on my place. I quickly thumbed a text to Naoms, explaining things and saying I would talk to her in the morning.

There was nothing more to so. I opened a bottle of Chablis, hid my best chocolate and braced myself for the imminent arrival of Hurricane Katie...

**A/N**

**Just a short one this. Don't worry, sibling angst, plenty of sex and rock and roll next. Oh, and the guitar bit too. **

**Katie Fucking Fitch, can't wait to write her!**

**Review you mad people, I need the positive energy...**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**

**Thanks again for my reviews. It is meat and drink to us struggling writers. I'm glad a couple of you at least are enjoying the flights of fancy I indulge in. Anyway, short is better Nancy, right? Oh, and you may want to ensure the room is empty when reading this chapter, it's a bit incendiary...**

**I don't own Skins, because if I did, S7 Fire would be a Naomily fest of about 4 hours.**

Naomi

Well, this is frankly weird. Standing in front of my mums house next to a petite redhead who is firmly handcuffed to me. Like I said, weird...

You know when you were a kid, and Christmas never seemed to come? All those dark cold December days waiting. Asking your mum how many sleeps till Santa comes? Well this week has been a bit like that for me. Once Emily had worked out how to swag a day pass for me, it was just a case of writing back to my mum, expressing totally bogus dismay at my poor papa's terminal illness, and begging her to get me out of here for just one day, so I could say goodbye. Yeah, right. The little shit said goodbye to me and my mum 23 years ago, when I was just a bump. The only memory I have of him is a faded photo I found under newspaper in a drawer of a dresser my mum was having collected for the dump, and the name on my birth certificate. Ronald James Williams. I don't even have his name. Fucker. This was the only good thing he had ever done for me in all that time. So I figured he owed me that at least.

So after a week that seemed to last an ice age, I was woken at 6.30, taken to reception, fed and watered and allowed to dress in my (borrowed) new black skirt and vest top, with my own short leather jacket over it. I sat there for the usual hour and a half, waiting for the taxi and my escort. Nice taxi, even nicer escort. Small, red haired and dressed in a very sexy but formal black business suit with a white top underneath. She looked like someone off of Madmen. Just younger and more Millennium than 1950's. She smelled of l'essence de Emily, and my nostrils flared as I caught a trace of the subtle musky perfume she wore. I don't know what its called, but mixed with her own unique scent, it sets my pheromones into hunter/killer mode. It was all I could do to stop myself jumping her there and then, especially when she attached the lightweight metal handcuffs to our wrists, binding us together for the journey. _Emily, naked, handcuffs_ a treacherous little voice sounded off in my already sexually stimulated brain. Where had I heard that phrase before? Oh well, it was very appropriate, except maybe not in the back of a taxi driven by a large and perspiring Middle Eastern gentleman with terminal halitosis. I'm glad we were in the very back seats of the big blue Ford galaxy, at least conversation would be minimal with our temporary guide.

The journey was mercifully short, because keeping my hands off her was difficult. We talked in general terms about nothing much, and after the guy driving had drunk in enough of our bodies through the mirror, he got bored and concentrated on what he was being paid for. I could feel the warmth of her body pressed into my side, and it was hard to know where to put our hands. Holding each others was out, given Abdul's keen eyes, so I settled for the odd stroke of her fingers when his attention was on the road, or any unfortunate cyclist who crossed his path. I'll give Emily her due. If her insides were churning as much as mine, she never showed it. Not even an answering touch on my fingers. She seemed fascinated by the passing scenery, so I gave up making small talk after 10 minutes and did the same. Soon the streets of Bristol appeared, and I noted the small changes 3 and a half years had brought to my home town. Buildings gone, streets widened or pedestrianised, just random stuff, but my heart felt heavy at how easily the world goes on without you. As we got closer to my house, I could feel myself tense up. Streets I walked down to school, avenues I had staggered along back from parties, alleys I had stood in, with some random or other, late at night kissing face, or worse. It was a bit surreal to be honest. When we turned into my road, I had to wipe away a tear which had traitorously appeared on my cheek. I gulped and that earned me a hard look from both Emily and Abdul. Fucks sake, I told myself sternly as the taxi slowed to a halt outside a very familiar yellow chalet, I'm Naomi Campbell, ice queen, get a grip.

We left the car awkwardly. Handcuffs don't make for elegant exits. But finally the taxi pulled away, with Emily's instructions to be back here at 5.30, ready to take me back to HMP Larkwood. I closed off that thought immediately. It was only 9.15. We had over 8 hours. I was going to enjoy it if it killed me.

Straight away, Emily pulled me along, up the steps onto our porch. She had put her top coat over our joined arms, so the neighbours couldn't see the cold steel which bound us together, but once we were standing at the door, she expertly slipped the cuffs off, and gripped my hand in hers. She looked down the street at the disappearing Galaxy and then finally I got her genuine 100 megawatt Fitch smile. My heart bumped like a fairground dodgem as she squeezed my hand in hers.

"Home Naomi" she grinned delightedly at my slightly stunned expression " God, I've been dying to do this" and with that she hugged me really tight in both arms and kissed my neck with her warm lips, making my goose bumps do the two step all over again.

" Jesus Ems" I said, my voice cracking a bit "I was dying to do much more than that, cooped up in that cab with you so close" I squeezed her back, dropping my right hand and cupping her far too tempting bum in my palm. I felt her shake with a suppressed giggle before she reached back and captured my wandering hand,

"Now then, Prisoner Campbell" she said in a mock official voice "Privileges have to be earned you know" She stage winked at me to emphasise the point

" Point taken Governor" I said in a low, far too submissive tone " Maybe later?"

She laughed out loud "Oh, Definitely, Miss Campbell" she chuckled

I shivered at the promise in her voice. God, I _wanted_ her so badly.

But first we had to deal with everything else. I knew my mum would be home, but Emily had told me that Effy and Emily's sister Katie would also be there shortly. I had been puzzled about that, but she had dismissed my questions with a 'wait and see' reply. Part of me was desperately trying to keep today for just me and Ems, but I was also looking forward, strangely, to seeing my mum again. She might be a daft old eco warrior, but I now found I missed her more than I had expected to. I raised my hand and knocked firmly on the door.

Ten seconds later I was engulfed in the arms of my daffy parent, in full earth mother mode. I hugged her back, a bit awkwardly to be truthful, but she didn't notice.

"Oh my beautiful girl" she gushed "I've missed you so fucking much!"

"OK, mum" I choked out "Save the histrionics, yeah? We have company?"

She shushed me dismissively, smiling broadly at an amused Emily "Emily is family now. She doesn't mind a mad old bat hugging her own daughter, do you love?"

Emily chuckled, and they shared the sort of glance two old friends do when someone around them is being a first class tit.

"No, of course not Gina" she smiled "Naomi is a bit short on the social graces. I think we both know that"

I scowled at them darkly, but they were obviously immune to my death ray. Bitches!

So I went in, my mum hugging one side of me, and Emily holding my other hand. I thought we would get stuck in the doorway and have to be cut out by firemen, but sideways on, we managed it, just.

Two cups of (frankly awful) tea later, and with the three of us sitting around the totally too big kitchen table like a jury deciding a case, I looked curiously around the familiar room as my mum began yet another embarrassing tale from my long lost childhood. Fucks sake, I thought. You would think I was the visitor and Emily the daughter. But I scolded myself right after. My girlfriend (and I still shivered with disbelief at that word) and my mum got on. Wasn't that a good thing? I looked up at the chalk board. No rotas on there now, but Meat is Murder and Save the Whale were still up there. Jesus, my mum was officially the world oldest hippy, I smirked inwardly.

Just then the door knocker went again. I braced myself for the next batch of "All our Yesterdays" before My mum jumped up and went down the hallway to the front door

"Fucks sake, Ems" I hissed "Don't let her go on. It'll be 5 before she even gets to my adolescence"

Emily grinned back at me, totally unabashed "Oh I don't think so babes" she laughed "We have a proper timetable here, and I'm sticking to it" she gripped my thigh hard as I heard the sounds of other people thumping down the passage "I have plans for you later. Upstairs" She lowered her eyes and then looked up at me with those deep brown eyes. Her pupils were dilated and I felt a warm pulse start up between my legs. God I loved it when she took charge!

Sadly, that was all we had time for before the whole kitchen erupted in noise. In came Effy, dressed to fuck as always, in a tiny blue silk dress, buckled at the waist and showing as much cleavage as she could manage whilst staying inside it. The regulation dayglo ankle socks and black 12 lace DM's topped it off. Next to her stood what I first thought was another Emily. Staring at me like I was Gary Glitter come to tea. Deep brown eyes, just like Ems, long dark brown hair, streaked with purple, and dressed to rival Effy in the 'Fuck me' stakes. She had a very short black skirt which showed off her legs nicely, black tights and an open necked silk top which matched the purple in her hair. More make up than Emily wore, and certainly more cleavage than I had ever seen my Wing Governor display. But it was her expression that held my eyes. Calculating, wary and slightly feral. I knew in an instant I would never get any bull shit past her.

"So this is the woman who has stolen my sisters heart" she said evenly "Not to mention broken up her engagement, risked her career and quite possibly her liberty. Nice to meet you Naomi"

I swallowed once as my mum went to reply to the sting of those remarks. But before she could, I saw Effy dig Katie hard in the ribs. She never flinched, and I saw I was right about her flinty personality. A hard one this.

Katie smiled with her mouth, but her steely eyes held mine to hers. "But as my sister is the most important person in my life" ( I heard Emily say in a voice so soft, only I caught it "except for Katie of course") "and is so crazy about you Campbell, that she bored me for 3 hours straight the other night, expounding your virtues" she broadened the smile and this time it reached her eyes "I think we can dispense with the normal third degree I owe you. Emily is convinced you are innocent. That's good enough for me...for the moment. Shall we sit down and try to sort this shit out?"

The atmosphere lightened considerably after that and more abysmal tea was served, much to Katie's disgust. Her powers of sociability were very thin. And Emily was obviously aware of her sisters short attention span for small talk.

"OK" Emily said, suddenly all business " We have a plan, but Naomi and Gina need to be filled in on the details... Effy?" she looked expectantly at my friend, who looked around the table before answering

"Right, so we all know its not probable that Naomi drank a distillery, consumed a nights worth of Bristol dealers stock and drove the BMW into those kids" I winced at her tone, but that was Effy, brutally to the point

"But proving it will be a mother fucker" I say my mum blink at the profanity, but Effy was on a roll.

"First. Cook is now on Johnny White's payroll full time. Second, White has contacts and paid informers in the Drug Squad, Murder Squad and Vice. That makes him a hard target to hit. Hurt Cook and we hurt White. And JW has enough full time goons to take care of this little amateur posse in their lunch hour, between courses.

I croaked a question "Is this supposed to make me feel better, because I really need cheering up"

Effy waved a hand in my direction before continuing "Patience Naoms, I think Emily has a plan to cheer you up big time before 5.30" she winked at me knowingly and I felt my face flush as my mothers eyes widened at the implication. Emily's nervous snigger next to me didn't help at all.

"Jesus, Stonem" Katie spat "Its bad enough my sister's turned into a full time muff muncher. Can you spare me the totally sick making mental images, please?"

Effy slid a slow sidelong glance over Katie's body before looking her in the eyes

"Careful Katie" she said in a sultry voice "I think the lady doth protest too much"

I saw Katie flush before she regained her composure "Fuck off Effy, I'm so straight I don't even fancy the REAL Naomi Campbell, let alone this loser"

This time it was Emily who poked her sister hard in the ribs. She actually did flinch when the finger dug into her, but Effy carried on as if nothing had been said

"Yeah, well OK Katie, you keep telling yourself that. Maybe we can have a chat later about the unpredictable transience of human sexuality" She grinned like the Cheshire cat when Katie huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Right. Back to the problem in question. We need an in to Whites organisation, an in to Cooks crew and time to work out how we are going to use that in to get information. It's going to be dangerous, its going to be messy, and at least one of us is going to have to put out to get the sort of pillow talk details we need to blow this open. I am volunteering for that task, especially as Cook already wants into my knickers. Unless you are up for it Katiekins?"

Again the sidelong look. I knew that look. Katie, despite her protestations, was toast. Once Effy set her sights on seduction, it was inevitable, like the sun coming up tomorrow.

"I'm not fucking some random just to get information. What do you think I am Stonem?"

"I don't know yet babes" Effy drawled "But once we get to know each other, I'm sure we can work something out"

They looked at each other for a long moment, Katie glaring, Effy in obvious amusement at her 'partners' discomfort

"So" Effy continued. "Katie and I will leave you guys to it. We'll go for a coffee and talk it through, OK Katie?" Emilys sister shrugged, but when Effy got up from the table, she stood too

"Err, talk to you later Ems?" she said to her sister. Emily nodded quickly

"Come on Katie" Effy said, walking towards the door "We can have coffee at my place. Its nearer than Starbucks, and the atmosphere is _**so**_ welcoming" She sniggered as she left. Katie shot a glance at Emily just as she disappeared which screamed "Oh fuck, _rescue_ me sis" but Emily just dipped her head and smiled slyly at her hands.

"Well" my mum said as we were again alone, just the three of us "I have to go and get some shopping. What would you like for dinner Naomi. Still like Bolognese?"

Jesus H Christ I thought. Even prison food hadn't prepared me for a return to my mothers cooking. She had trouble with tea bags...Her spaghetti bolognese was likely to cause some serious alimentary canal problems for my beloved Emily. I couldn't do that to her!

"Err, no don't so that mum" I gasped, too quickly "We'll get a Chinese delivered, like we used to when..." I saw her face cloud a little at my dismissal of her offer, but being my mum, she hid it well.

"Oh, OK Naomi. That sounds very nice. Emily, do you like Chinese?"

Emily spluttered a positive response, trying to mask her amusement at my clumsy rejection.

"Well" my mum said again "I still need some things in town" she looked up at the Station clock on the wall "It's after 10, so I will be a couple of hours at least. Will you girls be OK on your own?" Emily and I exchanged glances which said far too clearly that we would be very much OK on our won. I felt my face flush at the promise of the next two hours.

Gina fussed about for a minute or two, dragging a recyclable shopping bag from the gap between the washing machine and the drawer unit. She put on her gaudily striped poncho and turned to us before walking to the door.

"Now, I've tidied your bedroom, and umm, there are new sheets and duvet cover on the bed" She giggled nervously as she realised what she had said

"MUM" I said "Please?"

I could hear Emily stifling a series of delicious giggles, which made me blush even more. For fucks sake, It was bad enough Effy dishing out the sexual innuendo, I really didn't want my mum as a handmaiden in my harem...

When the door finally banged shut behind my mum we looked at each other for long seconds. We could both feel the tension mounting. This was it. No more furtive fumbling or stolen moments. Upstairs my double bed waited for us. Me and my _girlfriend_... I swallowed noisily and then snorted with laughter as Emily raised one quizzical eyebrow at my gaffe.

"I think its time you showed me the famous Campbell boudoir" she whispered in a voice suddenly low with meaning. "Like _**NOW**_ Naomi" she growled. I melted inside. God she was hot when she was hot, if you know what I mean.

Opening my bedroom door put the brass stamp on the weirdness of the day. It looked just as it had nearly 4 years ago. The fairy lights on my brass bed head were glowing pink. The curtains were drawn, despite it being just before 11 in the morning. The room had a rosy glow which made it look slightly unreal. My wall mirror still had the tickets for the O2 Foo Fighters gig tucked in the corner. A show I had missed due to an urgent appointment with a Judge, if I remember correctly.

Below the mirror, my Simon and Patrick acoustic stood on its metal stand. A bit dusty, but as I ran my fingers across the steel strings, still almost in tune. Next to it was my battered old Stratocaster, still connected to the 40w Roland Cube amp I had saved all summer to buy when I was 17. I used to love music, back in the day. It was my relaxant, my best friend and sometimes my confidant, when life was shit and all I could rely on was my ability to hold a Bm7 chord...

I turned to the doorway, conscious that my silence could be misunderstood, but I should have known that Emily would understand completely. She stood there in the doorway, hands at her sides and a gentle smile on her pretty face.

"Take all the time you want babes" she breathed "I'll still be here"

"No" I said shortly "It's OK. Come here, now..."

She could hear the tension in my voice and covered the distance between us in two steps.

She held my head in her palms and kissed me slowly but chastely on the lips. Then she just held me for a few moments, her arms encircling me protectively.

"We _will_ get you out of there my darling" she said "This is just the first step, believe me"

I wanted to believe, that's for sure. I wanted nothing more than to be in her arms, in this room for a whole year if possible. My sanctuary had suddenly become our sanctuary.

I lifted my head from her shoulder and this time I kissed her with passion. Her mouth opened when I tested her lips with my tongue and the floodgates opened. We crashed down on to the bed, tearing at each others clothes, careless of buttons and zips. Her jacket fell to the floor, and I reluctantly released her lips to pull the white top over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, and I growled deep in my throat as her soft pert breasts bounced slightly as she lowered her arms. My top came off and I scrabbled to take off my skirt, throwing it to the other side of the room in my haste to be naked with her. We watched each other with hungry eyes as we stripped off the last things. Finally, we knelt opposite each other, eyes raking each others bodies, drinking in the sight. I kissed her hard again and she whimpered, running her tongue round my mouth, deep and wet. I moaned into her mouth as she slid a hand between us and cupped my sex. I wanted her to carry on, but something stopped me. Pulling away from her seductive kisses, I gasped

"No, wait" Emily's eyes were hooded and almost black with desire, and she reached for me again.

"Emily, wait" I said again and she whined in disappointment as I drew back from her hands "I said I wanted this to be _your_ time, remember"

"Fuck 'my time' Naomi, she said in a dark brown voice "If you don't let me have you _right now_ babes, I am going to explode! and if I remember right, it was _my_ turn!"

I pushed her back so that she was lying under me. "Let me please" I said "Just let me love you first...then we can do ...everything you want, later"

Her eyes were still black and glowing, but she let me slip down her body until I was kneeling on the white rug beside the bed and her thighs were either side of me. She slid her hands up her own body, cupping her small breasts and thumbing the nipples repeatedly "Jesus Naomi" she said huskily "Just do it to me babes, just fucking..."

So I did. I looked at her in the gentle light and worshipped her perfection. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. Her thighs opened as I pressed them and I slid under her, so that her heels were lying on my bare back. She was open and submissive under me, just where I wanted her. I breathed on her softly and saw her stomach muscles ripple as the sensations mounted. She was smooth down there, pure. Like she was a virgin and I was her first. I liked it. I knew that actually this was supposed to be her time. The time that _she_ made love to _me_, but I just had to take her now, like this. The first time in my house, on my bed. My lover, Emily.

I kissed her folds and she groaned. Like she had against that library door, but louder, more abandoned now we could let go. I licked her again, top to bottom, feeling the moisture grow and feeling her thighs clench around my shoulders. Again I slowly ran my tongue from top to bottom, and again and again... I knew this was exquisite torture, but I wanted every second, every delicious minute to be burned into my brain. Emily Fitch, naked, open and wet, for me Naomi Campbell, her lover.

I slid both hands up under her and pushed a pillow under her pert behind. Now she was where I wanted her. I started to weave my magic... Long strokes, small circles, small sucks on the pearl of her clit. Her hands tangled in my hair, like last time, hips rolling, breathy moans and cries. This was heaven on earth. I felt like I could do this to her for ever. I sucked her nub into my mouth and gently trilled on it with my tongue, she cried out aloud then, a desperate needy cry. God, she was close already. Sliding first one finger, then another inside her folds, I curled them back, massaging the place behind her clit, matching my strokes inside and out. I scissored my two fingers back and forwards and she groaned deliciously as her climax stole up on her. Her hips were moving in counterpoint to my licking and thrusting and I knew it would only be seconds. I hummed as I sucked on her clit for the last time and she actually screamed. Not a scream of pain, but that moment when she had no answer to my tormenting tongue, she was on that plateau between life and death. The _petit mort _as the French call it. Little Death. So exquisite, its almost like dying. Her hands left my hair and scrabbled for grip on the duvet. Once twice, three times she arched up under me. She came so hard, and for so long that when she had finally collapsed under me, her eyes drooped like she had been stunned. Her mouth claimed mine as I moved up to kiss her and she moaned weakly as she tasted her own orgasm on my lips.

She slept for a quarter of an hour, that small smile playing on her lips all the while. I stared at my bedroom ceiling and replayed the whole thing in my head. All those other girls I had fucked had meant nothing. The only purpose they served was to educate me enough so that I could do what I had just done to Emily Fitch. I know it's big headed, but I was good at it, and I knew it. I had made my girl come like she never had before. I had branded her. She was mine. No other lover would come close. I knew that.

Later, she made love to me, my Emily, slowly, uncertainly...but with just as much passion as I had shown her. What she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. The result was just the same. I arched and spasmed in just as much ecstasy as she had. Watching her dark eyes looking at me as her tongue moved in and on me was enough. We made love over and over, desperate for the taste and feel of each other. By the time the door banged downstairs, and my mother made her entirely unnecessary loud arrival obvious, we were lying sated, exhausted and blissfully happy. It was after 2, we had been making each other moan for 3 hours. Even we had to stop sometime I guess. I felt her smile against my shoulder as I shouted at my mum to "Be quiet, we know you are home for fucks sake!" We giggled like two schoolgirls caught eating biscuits after lights out.

The rest of the day seemed to go like lightning. We ate our Chinese in comfortable silence, my mum bustling about, making tea and small talk. All too soon it was 4.30 and the shadows on the lawn were lengthening. A small knot in my stomach grew by the minute, and by the time we heard the toot of the taxi's horn I was in full panic mode. It couldn't end yet. Suddenly everything that had happened seemed unreal.

Emily watched me with real worry in her dark eyes. She hugged me repeatedly, but I pushed her away. I was going back into convict mode, and the mixed signals were confusing me. She didn't understand, of course, how could she? She would be dropping me off at reception before driving off in her nice new car to her nice new flat, while I sat in my room, alone, with just memories...

I know it was selfish, and I could see the hurt in her eyes as I avoided contact and comfort. I saw her exchange glances with my mum as I answered her questions with one word answers. I know I was hurting her, but I couldn't help it. My walls were being rebuilt as we sat there. When the taxi hooted, it was like a signal to resume normal life. Which for me was a cell, twenty strangers for neighbours and another 2000 days of captivity. The black cloud which had dissipated was now hovering over me, and my mood matched it exactly.

The journey back to Larkwood was silent. It suited me. Emily's face was a mask too, so we looked like two statues, looking at but not seeing the scenery flash by.

She uncuffed me in reception and tried to whisper words of comfort, but I was past caring. I pushed past her and made my way up to my room. I sat on my bed, looking out at the darkening fields. Bitter thoughts filled my mind. What was the point of today? A few hours of joy, balanced against a lifetime of disappointment. She wouldn't wait for me. The chances were I would be shipped out sometime over the next year and that would be that. I know it was unreasonable, I know it was unfair, but that tiny sliver of normality had brought everything back into sharp focus. Who did we think we were kidding?

When Ellie pooped her head round the door and offered a cup of chocolate, I raised my head and looked at her open, cheerful face. This was my world now, at least for the next 4 years. I was stupid to blow this girl off. I could have wall to wall sex and companionship from her any time I wanted. Without complications. I smiled at her and she almost bounced in happiness. I could separate her from her little Filipino any-time I wanted, couldn't I? After all, I am the famous Naomi Campbell, seducer of innocents, master of the rapid fire tongue, a ninja between the sheets...

I pushed myself off the bed and slid an arm round her thin shoulders. She looked up at me hopefully, pressing her big tits against me like a puppy humping my leg.

"Come back at 11 Ellie," I said... I need you tonight, OK?

She almost shook her head off nodding.

Fuck it, why not?

**A/N**

**Love it, hate it? Don't care, just review it please! Ha ha**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N**

**Well, I never knew there would be so much animosity towards poor Ellie! I suppose that's a lesson for me, don't f*ck with Naomily, right? Ha ha... Anyway, muchos gracias for the excellent reviews. It warms my heart!**

**This is kinda short, because the next chapters gonna be a mofo... long, angsty and possibly smutty as hell. Don't blame me, I just work here!**

**I don't own Skins. Just as well huh?**

**On...**

Emily

I got as far as the city before I woke up to what had been happening. To be honest my mind had been in so much of a spin since Katie arrived on my doorstep the other night, that events seemed to tumble on top of each other, totally out of my control. I had listened to Katie's endless moaning about the oh so obviously gay (well to anyone but Katie) designer boyfriend she had split with as soon as her plane landed at Heathrow. No sex, no romance, and now no platinum credit card. Poor her. Finally I had had enough.

"Katie" I said finally, when she paused for breath after 30 solid minutes "I've got something to tell you"

She looked round the lounge then, at last noticing the distinct lack of Danny, Danny's things, clothes, football boots, etc.

"Oh?" she said, raising a quizzical, impeccably plucked eyebrow "He's gone, is he?"

"Well. You were too good for him anyway Ems" she said airily "He was a shit shag anyway, right?"

I winced at her God given ability to turn every relationship into a sort of X Factor of sexual prowess. Katie had been with a lot of guys. But sooner or later it always came down to one thing. How big his dick was, and whether he could actually use it. Mostly not, if memory served...

"It wasn't the shagging. Well, not really" I said, slowly "Actually, I have a new partner.

"Fuck off Ems" she said, arching both eyebrows this time. "It usually takes you a year to get over a guy. Unless you were.. fuck, you didn't _cheat_ on him, did you?"

"No " I said "my names Emily, not Katie" She flinched at that, but being Katie, stored it away for future ammunition. I knew exactly how she worked, after 23 years...

I took a deep breath before speaking this time. I knew what was going to happen

"Actually its a woman, well girl, oh I don't know, a fucking female, right?"

I glared at her, defying the inevitable nuclear blast.

After staring at me like I had just grown another head, she actually laughed out loud. Tears of amusement filled those perfectly made up eyes.

"A..a..a fucking _**GIRL**_?" she spluttered. "Aren't we both a bit past teenage experiments Emsy?"

"You might be hun" I said, remembering that time I caught her playing hide the finger with Samantha Martin in an empty classroom during a 6th form school party. She bugged me for weeks to never speak of it again, blaming the E's and some disgusting potato spirit one of the boys had cooked up in his dads shed. Fucking '_Distil Anything Magazine_' had some questions to answer regarding obliterated taste buds. "But I'm obviously not"

"I thought Uni had sorted out your umm preferences" she said, with a puzzled frown "I mean like after that shit with Sarah, and err, what was her name, Chloe?"

"Zoe" I corrected her. "and no, it didn't. Danny was a mistake, and not just because he was a shit shag. I was sleepwalking into a life I didn't want, and now that's not happening any more. I'm happy Katie, really happy"

"Well fuck me with a well worn cucumber" she said, filling my mind with totally unnecessary imagery "OK babes, if that's what you wanna do with your life, that's cool. Mind you" she looked at me sideways "Mum will go absolutely apeshit. She was choosing wedding outfits before I flew to the States. Fucking hell, she thought the sun shone out of Danny's..."

"Yeah, OK already" I interrupted "Well she liked anyone I went out with, so long as they didn't have a vagina, remember?"

This time Katie laughed with me, not at me. "Right" she grinned "Remember that time you brought Sarah to dinner, just before you took your finals?"

"How could I forget" I grimaced "Mum spent the whole night looking like she was chewing a wasp, not salad leaves, and when our resident pervert, James made that crack about fingers and dykes, she nearly fucking exploded"

We both laughed at the memory of my mums horrified face. The naughty bar was heavily in use after my 'guest' had left...

"So what's her name then?" Katie probed, "When do I get to meet her, is she fit...does she..."

I put up my hand to stop her extending the questioning into even more intimate detail. My sister isn't such a homophobe nowadays, but she does tend to get gynaecological at times. I'm not sure my stomach could take it.

"Her names Naomi, she's rather beautiful...and... she's serving 10 years in my prison"

The world stopped then. I saw her expression change from utter shock, through wary amusement, because I think she thought I was taking the piss, to total bewilderment, and finally to full on purple Katie Fucking Fitch anger, all in the space of 3 seconds.

"_WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK_?" she finally roared "Are you completely off your head Emily" Several flocks of birds took off from nearby rooftops, probably bringing forward their migration by several weeks. "She's a _con_? And not just a fucking convict, but one you are supposed to be in _charge_ of?"

I could see all the negative permutations I had wrestled with myself crossing my sisters steel trap mind. This was going about how I thought it would. First the hurricane, then the calm. I waited for it to blow itself out. It took about 30 minutes in total. I was called a complete idiot, a cretin, a half wit, and many many other things I only vaguely remember. I have been the recipient of Katie's hair-dryer before, so knew eventually she would switch it off and listen.

"Finished?" I said, far too reasonably, which set off another rant, lasting a few minutes before, chest heaving and eyes still wide with shock, she sat the fuck down and stared at me for a second. Taking another deep breath, I tried again.

"I love her" I said simply. She rocked back on her seat and blew a long breath out.

"Jesus Ems, then its worse than I thought . Not just a casual shag, forbidden fruit, bit of rough, like?" I could see her struggling with the concept of love. Katie's idea of love is normally a £5000 credit limit and a guy who warns her before he comes in her mouth.

"No Katie" I smiled, remembering the look on Naomi's face when I confessed the same thing to her "It's definitely love"

"Oh shit" she said simply "What can I do?"

And that's my Katie. Quite prepared to meet out severe ear ache to me. But when the chips were down, my twin had my back. I always knew that.

Several huge glasses of Shiraz and two hours later we were straight. She still thought I was crazy, irresponsible, possibly legally certifiable, but if I actually loved this woman, she was onside.

I went to bed that night happy. If Katie was on board, I could deal with most things. Or so I thought.

So, stopping at traffic lights, about a mile from home, I suddenly realised that I had unfinished business at the prison. Today had gone so well. I had expected Naomi to be in the same happy bubble I was after the amazing sex and happy cuddles afterwards. But of course, I was going home. To my comfortable flat, fluffy bathrobe and mindless TV channels. She was alone, probably crying and even more desolate than before now she had tasted freedom, however brief.

I turned my car sharply, earning angry hoots from several cars as I cut them up. Driving fast but carefully, I was back outside Larkwood in 15 minutes. I parked the Gti quickly and nodded at the gate screws as they let me in and handed me my keys. Screws and Governors work strange shifts, so it wasn't unusual for me to pull a double and come straight back on duty. I let myself onto the wing and looked up at the second floor.

What I saw then made me think I had lost several weeks memory. Naomi was laughing, leaning over the waist high balcony. And who was next to her, holding on to her waist and giggling sickeningly into her side, whilst eye fucking her to death? Yep, Ellie. The last person in the world I though Naomi would want to be with after what had happened today. I felt so nauseous, I almost threw up on the floor. It was as if someone had physically punched me in the gut. Jesus, I had expected a lot of things driving back here. But not this, not _again..._

The noise and bustle of the wing seemed to fade as I stood there like an idiot, all sorts of emotions rushing through me, one after the other. Shock, bitter anger and betrayal. I had no way of processing it all. I tried to make my feet move, but they wouldn't obey me. I had my keys loosely in my hand, and I knew if I didn't move soon, someone would see what I was looking at and put two and two together. We would both be royally fucked if that happened.

Just then she noticed me looking up. Shock crossed her face then. Not the person you were expecting to see, Naomi? I thought with deep and absolute venom. She took a step away from Ellie, which made the smaller girl frown. I turned away then, heat flushing my face. I was out of here _now_. Whatever I had dreamt of was shattered, just like my heart. I stifled a sob as I fumbled with my keys.

I heard the scream behind me, but didn't turn. Fuck you Naomi, I thought. Scream away. Not my problem any more. I took two steps before I realised that it wasn't that type of scream. Just at that second I heard a thump behind me. A sickening thump, like someone had dropped a sack of flour onto the shiny polished floor.

I looked back then alright. Up above me stood Ellie, on the second floor landing. Next to her a small Filipino girl whose name I couldn't remember. Ellie was shouting something at her and hitting her with closed fists, but screams were now erupting all around me. I looked down and my world stopped, just like those movies when everything goes into slow motion. Ten feet away, a body laid on the cold floor. A crumpled, broken body, arm unnaturally twisted under the head. A blonde head. Naomi's head. A pool of dark blood began to pool under that head. Her face was away from me but she was so still, so fucking _still_...

My own screams joined the cons. I remember blue uniforms rushing past me, bells ringing and pounding feet. People yelling and calling. Mayhem.

Someone pulled me away and held me in their arms. A woman, One of the night screws. She whispered kind words. I can't remember one of them. I let her pull me into my office and sit me at my desk. Somewhere outside an ambulance wailed its signature tune, Getting louder. The numbness I felt was getting stronger. Stupid statistics tumbled through my head. Twenty feet drop onto concrete, chances of survival 15% at best. She was dead, I knew it. Tears started to fall...I laid my head on my arms. It was over.

**A/N**

**Don't kill me yet guys... its not over... or is it?**

**Review (and be nice huh?)**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N**

**Wowie...some of you _really_ didn't like the end of the last chapter, huh? I did cringe a bit, writing it, but trust me, all is not what it seems. I don't mean there won't be tragedy, tears and angst a plenty, maybe even a betrayal or two... but love conquers all, right? Or maybe not, hehe...Smut conquers all, I hear you say**

**I don't own Skins.. it's a bitch, isn't it?**

Katie

I fucking _hate_ funerals. I mean, what's to like? I have to wear black, every fuckers crying their heads off, mascara rivers everywhere you look and its always cold. Not that I look bad in black. I look good in most things, but I do like a bit of tasteful contrast, and that's not really an option today. Of course, it's pissing raining. The church is actually _freezing_ cold and now I've been told I have to stand outside by a soggy grave, while a middle aged vicar with epic dandruff drones on about the recently departed. Cosmic.

I mean, I hardly knew the girl. Yeah, she was young, had her whole life in front of her blah blah blah, but bad shit happens, right? Emily is in bits of course. She's standing next to me, well, basically hanging onto me, just about managing to stay upright. Her face is pale and blotchy and her eyes are swollen and red rimmed from 24 hour crying. I feel sorry for Ems of course. She's broken about losing what's-her-name forever. And I get that. Life isn't fair, is it? But this weather is fucking ruining my Manolo's

Finally we are at the graveside. Fuck this for a game of soldiers. The winds fair whipping up my skirt and for once in my life I wish I had worn something longer. My teeth are chattering like clockwork false choppers and the vicar sounds like he's only just getting into his stride. Earth to earth, dust to dust and all that. The deceased doesn't care of course, wrapped up in her nice snug coffin. Its over the grave now, some green cloth stuff laying across the hole in the ground. Why people get buried I have no idea. OK, you don't know much about it when it's your turn. But spending eternity in a hole in the ground with all the creepy crawlies and worms isn't my idea of fun. Naah, a quick service, lots of vodka and the family sized microwave on full power for me. But I suppose you have to respect the families wishes and all that.

To be honest, I'm more worried about my sister than the dear departed. Ever since it happened she has been basically an emotional wreck. The prison have given her a month off, compassionate leave, and she's been seeing a counsellor, but nothing seems to work. When she's not crying, she's about to. And she's made some serious dents in my plastic, mostly at the 24 hour wine shop. I think the dustmen have all got hernias from the bulging bags of empty Shiraz bottles we leave outside nightly.

I can't blame her of course. I would be a bit prone to continuous drinking if what had happened to her had happened to me. Bad enough that daft cow Naomi letting some tiny homicidally jealous Filipino heave her off a balcony in Her Majesties Happy Holiday Camp Larkwood. Nearly killed her too. She's up in the High Dependency Unit at the BRI, wired up to more machines than the Terminator. Broken arm in 4 places, fractured ribs, pelvic bruising, big old cut on her head too. Just as well her arm landed first. The doctors have said if it had been her head that landed on the concrete floor, it would have been goodnight sweetheart. Full stop. But add to that this fuckery, with Emily's best friend Zoe from Uni getting killed by a fucking milk lorry on her way to get some fags from the corner shop last week, and my twin is very close to the edge right now. As soon as this frankly depressing and over long ceremony is over, I have to drive Ems up to the hospital to continue her bedside vigil. Between her and Gina, I don't think there's been a minute Naomi has been on her own in that side ward. She's a trooper, my Emsy.

Fuck, I _hate_ funerals. It's raining harder and my hair is starting to curl.

Finally, just when I'm about to jump into the grave myself to get out of the biting wind, the coffin goes down on ropes, to a volley of sobs and cries. Inch by inch, down it goes. As it does my sister squeezes my hand tighter and tighter. If the hypothermia doesn't get me, lack of circulation will. I utter a personal prayer 'Please Lord, get me out of here and into a full length mink dressing gown' He doesn't answer.

And then at last it's actually over. The vicar signs off with a flourish and leaves in a white cloud of dead skin. The immediate family stay by the grave for one last sob and I pull my sister away with me, behind the other mourners, back to the car park. Once we're in the Golf, I give Emily my best linen hankie and she blows her nose noisily into it, then holds it out to me.

"Fucks sake Ems" I say shorty "I don't want the thing back _now_, do I?"

"Sorry" she says, in a small voice, and I feel a shit all over again

"It's OK" I say, smiling at her pale fragile face "Are you sure you don't want me to take you home first? Its fucking freezing, and you could have a nice hot bath before going back up the Royal"

She shakes her head, stubborn cow, and I huff out a long breath, turning the car through the city traffic, up towards the hospital.

Once I've paid the frankly ruinous parking fee, and we've negotiated the warren of corridors and stairs to the HDU I stop in front of the white double doors.

"Well" I say "This is me then hun"

She barely looks at me, ungrateful cow. "OK Katie" she says, voice weak and cracking "Thanks for being there for me"

"What else would I do when my twin sister needs help?" I say graciously

"Err, fuck off rapidly in the direction of the nearest available erection?" she says, and for a moment I'm mad. But just hearing her attempt a put down is actually OK. The funeral is over, the love of her life (God help her) is at least on the way to recovery. I can stand a bit of rebellion, can't I?

"Yeah, whatever" I say, fixing her with the old KFF glare and she even chuckles a bit. I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe now life can resume some sort of normality. By which I mean I can think about taking Effy up on that 'party' invitation tonight. I've just got time to get home, have a long hot bath to restore some sort of circulation to my toes and dress up for a night of booze, drugs and hopefully mindless sex. The last bit I'm not too sure about to be honest. I still don't trust Ms Stonem to respect my firm conviction of heterosexuality. I'm no muff muncher. That's my sister. I can't understand why Effy keeps on teasing me about it. I won't change my mind. Two drunken episodes in my teens with other girls were experiments, right. I was fed up with Emily telling me how fucking good girls are with their tongues, so I tried it. Twice, It was nice, and I had some fun, but it's not going to change a lifetime of cock addiction, is it?

Oh well. I kissed my sister on her wet cheek, and made a break for the exits.

The soft thud of the ward doors tells me she is gone to the land of Naoms. Bitch.

Two hours later and I'm knocking on Effy's apartment door. She had buzzed me in from upstairs and I check myself one last time in the hall mirror before the door opens and Effy stands, fag in hand looking me up and down slowly.

"Jesus, Eff" I say, frowning "Any chance you can be a bit less subtle about the checking out?"

She smiles that infuriating Effy smile and continues to look me up and down blatantly. OK, I made a bit of an effort, I confess. It may only be one of Johnny Whites clubs, but I've got a reputation to uphold, no?

I have a plain white silk cloth button Donna Karen top on, three of them undone so generous portions of my frankly impressive tits are on show. £100 quid I paid for the VS cream lace bra and knicker set I'm wearing underneath. What's the point if no one sees them? I've got a tight black Jitrois leather skirt on, five inches above my knee, and a wide black, gold buckled belt to match. My black Blahnik buckle shoes were a gift from an ex, I can't remember which, but I think his plastic will remember alright. My legs are bare, but I spent enough time in the tanning shop this week to keep them respectably brown.

"_Nice_ tits Katie" Effy drawls, zeroing in on my cleavage and practically drooling.

"You can look, but you _definitely_ can't touch" I say, trying to counter her frankly unsettling flirting with some deadpan impassiveness of my own.

"Sure about that Katiekins?" she teases "Haven't you heard about the power of the pussy?"

I scowl at her in what I hope is a definite negative signal.

"_Not_ my style lezzer, but I'm sure Emily has read it" I say, which for some reason makes her howl with laughter. Oh well, I think, at least she's stopped perving long enough for me to squeeze by her into the flat.

Half an hour later, after three vodka and tonics and a small white happy pill which I politely refused to take off her tongue with my own, preferring to lift it off with slightly nervous fingers and swallow, we are good to go. Effy looks amazing, of course. Yellow lace top, tight black skinnies and studded Schuh Mavericks made her look every inch the rock chick she was trying to emulate. Fuck, Bristol, and Johnny White wouldn't know what had hit them!

I got downstairs with just a playful squeeze of my bum from Effy as a penalty, so I think I got off quite lightly. Slapping her hand away was getting to be a habit though..Kinky bitch.

_The club _

No queuing in line. That's the benefit of knowing Miss 'see and know everything' Stonem. Straight to the front of the queue, wink to the bouncer and in we go. It's one of White's clubs, so its a bit skanky, with lots of pink leather, mirrors and by the sounds of it, a DJ who gets off to Tinie Tempah and Labrinth full time, but fuck it, I've been in worse. The music's loud but the extra strong MDMA has blunted my sarcastic side, so I'm cool with the eardrum splitting bass. Loads of wannabe's and nevergonnabe's are jigging about manically, desperately trying to catch someone's eye. Thank God, not mine so far. I'm slightly miffed mind you. I dressed up for fucks sake...

Effy grabs my arm and pulls me to the VIP area on the upper floor. Away from the smell of sweat and knock off Chanel. I find myself sitting in a big booth with the most motley crew of people since the last series of 'I'm a Celebrity...' In the middle of a group of girls and indentikit meat-head goons sits the man himself, Johnny White. Looking like he just escaped from the set of Pirates of the Caribbean. Only short of the patch over one eye. His wispy beard would be laughable on anyone else, but one cursory glance with his watery eyes over my body is enough to still my internal giggle meter. He's a very dangerous man, with millions in drug money, about 6 clubs and dozens of desperate tenants depending on his slum flats for a roof over their head. Not someone even Katie Fucking Fitch is going to risk pissing off. People have been known to disappear you know, not to mention end up in HMP Larkwood on the wrong end of a 10 stretch... To his right, one along from a bimbo with plastic tits and too much slap is the one and only Cook. At least he looks vaguely like the photo Effy showed me before we left. Only this guy is fatter in the face, with a complexion which owes more to single malt whisky than Beckham moisturiser. I never knew him when we were students, so I have nothing to compare him with, but this guy looks way older than 25, and well on the way to his first substance assisted heart attack. I throw Effy a quizzical glance, but she looks away.

"Effy baby!" the family sized Cook bellows when he spots us, his elbow nearly sending a silicone tit into the stratosphere from the tart sitting next to him "Come and sit here, next to the Cookie Monster, and bring your mate too. Mint tits by the way" he leers in the direction of my cleavage, making projectile vomiting my new must do hobby. His eyes crawl over me like sweaty hands and I make a mental note to spend an extra ten minutes in the shower before I go to bed. Creepy fat fucker I think, smiling winningly at him as he makes room by spinning the wannabe Britney next to him around by the arm and sending her to the bar to get him some cigarettes. She flashes me a totally unwarranted venomous look and I glare back at her. Jesus, I'd rather fuck Johnny White, I think. But then the man himself leans over the bimbo on _his_ left and says in a voice so low I have to lean closer myself to hear

"One of our Effy's friends, yeah?" I blink at him stupidly and nod

"Which team you play for kid?" he says, eyes buried between my tits, and I blink again, What the fuck? Do I look like I play midfield for Arsenal Ladies? He clocks my puzzled look and stage whispers

"Cock cruncher or Muff muncher" and laughs. A laugh which has absolutely no humour in it at all. I swallow thickly and search for the right answer. Its like having a conversation with a Death Eater.

I start to utter the immortal Katie Fitch mantra '_me cock lover, not muff muncher_' and then think fast for once in my life. Jesus Christ on a bike, I don't want to end the night sitting on this murderous cunts no doubt pencil thin dick, do I? Think Katie...

"Err, me and Effy are really _close_" I say meaningfully, but not quietly enough for my new 'friend' Effy not to hear. She sends me a look which says I will have to pay for that promise later and I realise I have just signed up for a night rotating on Effy's talented tongue. Fucks sake, I think, frying pan, fire, anyone?. I smile weakly back at her as White then blanks me completely, turning to paw the brunette next to him with thin, bony hands. My skin crawls as she giggles inanely, even when he pulls down her top to show one of his goons her improbably proportioned left tit.

"Cost me a fucking fortune, these" he grins nastily as the goon has a crafty feel himself "But when I have my head between them, I never hear the alarm clock" They laugh unpleasantly together and the girl takes the opportunity to stuff her silicone mammary back in its place.

Its a fucking zoo in here... I think bitterly. Just then Cook leans over and tries an obviously well worn line on me.

"I have the cure" he says, rubbing his crotch suggestively. "To being a lesbian, I mean" he added . _Obviously_ I needed help with that one.

I roll my eyes theatrically and look to Effy for help.

"Cook, you orang utan, she's a paid up member of the Effy Stonem pussy patrol, back the fuck off"

It wasn't quite the description I was searching for, but tonight any port in a storm huh? Effy raised another quizzical eyebrow at me and I knew I was fucked, or would be later. Matter of time. Bollocks. Time to dig out the brogues and dungarees.

Cook leered at me one more before changing horses mid race, as it were.

"Eff, baby, _**you**_ play both teams, don't you darling?" he chuckled, gripping Effy's knee in his meaty paw. "Cookie needs to feel the love tonight" he looked at her hopefully, like a kid pleading with his mum for a third chocolate digestive.

"Cook" Effy laughed humourlessly "You feel the fucking _lurve_ every night. How the hell you even remember which slapper is sitting on your cock, I'll never understand. So I'll pass thanks...and so will Katie. We have err...complicated plans involving a 12" purple dildo and banana yoghurt"

I swear that girl's mind is as twisted as a politicians expenses return.

Cook bellowed with laughter, banging on the table before reaching over to to swig from a full pint glass. From the smell coming off him, it wasn't likely to be orange juice in it. Yellow tinged neat vodka at best. Fucking hell, I though, Bristols answer to Shane McGowan.

"Fucking top girl Stonem!" he roared. "Take lots of pictures, even better, _movies_, yeah?"

Effy smiled and winked wickedly at me when he turned away to greet his date for tonight. Well, I say date. Judging by the way he was practically fucking her in public, they'd be lucky to reach the toilets before she was receiving incoming.

The rest of the night was a bit of an alcoholic, MDMA and whizz enhanced blur to be honest. We _had_ achieved our objective of introducing me to the White/Cook inner circle, and despite Cooks pathetic attempts to grope my tits every time I passed him, I managed to end the evening with my honour intact. Well. Not exactly intact. I haven't had much honour since I was 14 and sucked off the maths supply teacher in the book cupboard after school. Well, he did give me an A for Calculus... Oh and a taste in my mouth it took 2 cans of Sprite to get rid of. Mind you, it didn't seem to put me off.. Cocks R Us, that me. I've had plenty. Big ones small ones, black ones white ones, straight ones, curved ones, well you get the picture. Nowadays I tend to assume the 'master position' on top with all the control, but I'm still really that girl 'Martini Katie'. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere. I'm still searching for the perfect shag, you see. About another 200 anonymous erections and I reckon I'll be there...

Which is why I am still puzzled about how I got into this situation with fucking Effy Stonem. Because she may be many things , but a master cocksman isn't one of them. The fact that half a bottle of vodka and two tabs of highly powered MDMA were coursing through my system as we made our drunken, giggling way home in the back of a minicab is my only excuse. She didn't touch me in the cab. She didn't have to. MDMA always goes straight to my groin every time. I should have known better. If I'd stuck to the alcohol, I would still have been the worse for wear, but I would probably have thrown up in her lap rather than shagging her. Oh fuck, confession out. Did I just say that out loud?

Fuck it. Too late now. Yes I shagged Effy Stonem. Not in the cab, although I'm sure the driver was hoping. Not in the hallway of her block, although if she had tried, I would have let her. Not even against the wall of her lounge, all ripped tops and ruined underwear. No, it wasn't like that at all..._She_ wasn't like that at all. We had another small drink, just a nightcap. We talked, and although the conversation got more suggestive as the drugs twisted my mind ever further into darker fantasies, she didn't make a move. Don't get me wrong, she could have had me any time she wanted, and I don't think she was deliberately teasing me. Well. Any more than she normally does about muff munching. But she seemed content to just enjoy the moment. We were on the big leather couch, both sitting with knees up under bums, cradling the almost empty glasses of some really moreish Polish toffee vodka, just talking like two civilized human beings. Except that I kept thinking about what Emily had told me about Effy's tongue... and looking at her unfettered tits like a starving man with a bacon sandwich dangling in front of him. What was _wrong_ with me, I kept thinking.

So when she abruptly got up, put her glass down and stretched, revealing a nice expanse of smooth flesh and belly button piercing, I was as nervous as the night Jimmy Poole finally managed to get into my knickers and I stopped being a technical virgin. Sadly my mouth, both hands and I think my left ear had been ex virgo intacto for nearly a year longer...But thats another story. My mouth suddenly got dry and I blinked up at her as she stood in front of me and held out her hand. I gripped her cool fingers and allowed myself to be pulled upright.

"Katie, it's OK, you know" she said in a quiet and calm voice "We can just go to bed and sleep"

I nodded stupidly and let her lead me into the bedroom. If my sister had been there (and thank God she wasn't. I mean the great Katie Fitch, _Cock Mistress General_, being led towards certain lesbian defloration by a 20 something girl with bad dress sense and morals even more left field than mine) It was so weird it almost seemed normal.

As we entered the room I allowed myself a small gasp at the big four poster in the centre of the room. It had expensive cream linen drapes around it, and I wondered for the second time tonight what she actually did for as living, to be able to afford this level of luxury. Did I say that she could read minds? Of course she knew exactly what I was thinking. This was a skill I was going to end up hating her for, I just knew it.

"My Mum and Dad paid for this" she said simply "Whilst they are off shagging other people, this is their darling daughter's version of hush money" She waved her hands around the room. "All paid for by my doting parents"

Her eyes reflected a momentary sadness, before returning instantly to inscrutability. It was worse than trying to look into the soul of a Chinese Emperor, not a flicker to give me any clues. I swallowed, more noisily than I intended, and she smiled at me with genuine warmth.

"Let's just go to bed, huh babe?"

I nodded again, not trusting my voice to come out as any more than an embarrassing croak. She let go of my hand and walked over to the huge oak dresser opposite the bed. She pulled out two new looking white tee's and threw one at me. I caught it awkwardly and stood with it in my hand looking at her. She held my eyes before stripping the flimsy yellow lace top over her head in one move. I looked shamelessly at her tits. Fuck, I thought, since when have I ever perved over another girls tits? _Since now_, _you idiot_, my inner devil said treacherously, _since now_.

She carried on looking at me whilst she did something I have never been able to achieve, she got out of a pair of skinnies without falling over. Frankly I was fucking impressed. Her thong followed and I swear people in the street must have heard my heart pounding. I could actually feel it hitting my ribs. _Effy Stonem, naked,_ _bed_... the same four words kept repeating in my mind over and over. I think if she hadn't spoken I might have still been standing there like a Muppet three days later.

"Katie?" she smiled "see something you like?" Jesus, understatement of the fucking decade. I had one of those epiphany moments, like St Paul on the way to Daventry or something... Suddenly I had a flash of desire that thrilled through me like pure electricity. I actually wanted her. A girl, for fucks sake. What was happening to me?

"Gonna brush my teeth" she said, the words shaking me out of my paralysis. She pulled the tee over her head and walked past me to the en suite, flashing me a small knowing grin as she did. Bitch. I was so busted it wasn't even worth blustering. Taking the opportunity to change myself, while she was out of the room, I pulled off my top, skirt and shoes and paused for a moment in my new underwear. To strip or not to strip, that was the question.

"Fuck off Katie" I said out loud to myself "Who are you kidding? That bra and knickers isn't going to stay on long anyway, is it. Get over yourself"

I hear a gentle cough behind me and realised I was even more busted now. I blushed as I turned to face her

"Nice underwear Katie darling" she breathed "But a bit superfluous, huh, given the situation?"

Bollocks, I thought. I have been naked with dozens of guys, why is it so hard to be as easy with it now? I reached behind me and undid the clasp to my bra, letting it fall to the carpet in front of me. I saw her eyes widen as she raked them over my tits. Always my best feature, I though smugly. Always a show stopper, Katie Fitches boobs. I slid my knickers to the floor and turned my knee, posing for her shamelessly. Suddenly the MDMA was kicking in again and I felt a rush of heat to my lower stomach. Might as well enjoy it, it's inevitable, I thought recklessly

"See anything _YOU_ like?" I said, flirting like crazy.

"Oh yeah" she breathed "Fun, fun fun..."

I looked at the tee in my hand, and as usual, her mind reading skills were in full flow. She walked slowly towards me, then pulled it from my fingers.

"Not necessary" she said "Not tonight" in a voice low with lust

"You too" I said in a tone just as distorted with need. She lifted the top over her head and we walked hand in hand to the big welcoming bed.

Once we were laying on our backs, side by side, some of my uncertainties resurfaced. This was after all, my first proper shag with a girl. I can't really count the frantic finger hiding moments I had shared with a couple of girls at Uni. Copious alcohol, opportunity and the non availability of a stiff cock were my excuses for those lapses. This was different. Yes I was pissed, yes the E's had reduced my inhibitions to gibbering weaklings, cowering at my feet, but this was still a full on, no holds barred shag with another woman. No excuses Fitch, I thought, not this time. "_Its just the drugs, right?_" won't wash.

I watched her as she rolled over to face me. She brushed a stray lock of hair from my eye and licked her lips. Fuck that was a sexy gesture. The fire in my belly started to glow brighter.

"Kiss me honey" she said

So I did

It was strange at first. The softness of her lips, the way she moaned deliciously when I automatically slid out my tongue to part them. As if I had never kissed anyone before.

The kiss deepened and I felt myself reaching for her and running my hands up and down her smooth back. Jesus, this was fun...She moaned again as I played with her tongue with my own and we rolled our bodies against each other. I could feel her hard nipples pushing into the soft skin of my tits and it felt like heaven. I reached down and cupped her bum in my hands, pushing her against me until I moaned too at the incredible sensations her naked skin was producing inside me. This was so fucking _easy_... Why hadn't I...before..?

When she broke the kiss, I gasped for air a bit, but moaned, this time in disappointment at the lack of contact. She gripped my wrists in her hands as I reached for her, desperate to revisit that explosion of sensations I had just lost.

"Wait, babes" she said, kissing me on the tip of my nose "We have all night, and you're not going to last very long the _first_ time"

I pouted dramatically and she laughed a low throaty laugh at my expression.

"Wow Katiekins" she grinned at me "Full time converted muff muncher, much?"

I slapped her arm for the insult before joining her in a helpless giggle

"First my treat, then we get to explore" she said knowingly. She pushed me over onto my back and leaned over, whispering in my ear, which sent a rush of pure need through my superheated libido. I think I actually shivered. "Look up babes" she said

I looked up at the ceiling. Well, what would have been the ceiling, if there hadn't been something in the way, something very significant in the way. A mirror, the full length of the bed, now suddenly illuminated with soft pink lights from the side. I gasped as I took in the reflection. Me and Effy, naked in the warm pink glow. It was a spectacular sight. We looked good, even if I do say myself.

Effy took my left hand and placed it on my own breast. I looked sideways at her in puzzlement. "Just go with this Katie" she said "It's my guilty pleasure...please?"

How could I refuse her?

She slid my other hand down until it rested between my thighs. I frowned, now knowing where this was going. Lets face it, a lot of the guys I had been with liked to see me get myself off. Its a guy thing right. But Effy?

She whispered again, this time running her tongue around my ear, which made me whimper.

"I want to see your face when you come" she said, which made the dampness between my legs increase a hundredfold. "Humour me? I _will_ make it worth your while"

How could I say no to that. It's not like I am exactly inexperienced at self pleasuring. There isn't always a hard on to use as my personal dildo. I opened my thighs and slid a finger inside my folds. My groan at that sensation was echoed by the one beside me and I turned to see Effy's hand was making regular circles between her own legs. Her eyes were fixed on my reflection, so I turned back to watch the show. It didn't take long. Before a minute had passed, my inhibitions had fled empty handed and I was laid back, legs spread so wide my thigh was across hers, my mouth was open and I gasped as my flying fingers built the sensations rapidly to a conclusion. I dimly heard Effy cry out before my own orgasm crashed over me. The wet sounds of our fingers working, the smell of excited women and the contact of our legs was all too much. Let alone the image of us both masturbating together. Fuck YouPorn. this was light years in advance of that lame boy wanking site.

I wish I could remember the rest of the night in more detail, but it was a blur of tangled limbs, breathless cries and minutes spent holding, sucking, licking and penetrating each other. Yeah, thats right, Katie Fucking Fitch, tongue deep inside a girl. And I fucking loved every second of it. Not to mention the frankly amazing things she could do with that prehensile tongue. I swear she could hang from branches with it. At one stage, she had it so deep inside me I wondered if she was going to make me pregnant. And the contortions she could command it to do were beyond belief. I mean, I know my sister is in love with that sap Naomi, but she had passed on possibly the most lethal sexual weapon in the history of the human race. I'm pretty sure you need a Firearms licence to carry that in public...

Effy finished me off after a couple of hours. I was dozing after yet another mind blowing orgasm when she came back to bed after excusing herself to go to the loo. What she brought back from the en suite definitely wasn't on many peoples bathroom utensil list. She made me close my eyes and lay on my back. I felt her smooth fingers open my thighs, and prepared for another oral assault. Which is what I got for about ten seconds. Enough time to make me wetter than a swimmers goggles... I could feel her hovering over me as she moved up my body, but she wasn't touching me, so I groaned a protest. Her finger, which had so recently penetrated me touched my lips. I caught the scent of my own excitement on it. Something which would have made me reach for the sick bucket just a short time ago. But now, I actually put out my tongue and licked her finger. Things change, huh?

Anyway, as she pressed the finger to my lips, silencing my protest, I felt something press at my sex, parting the wet folds before pausing. I opened my eyes as her finger left me. She was kneeling between my legs, eyes on my face. Between my legs I could see something large, bulbous and definitely purple, half inside me. The other end was strapped to Effy by an ingenious pair of soft ties. Jesus, I thought. A fucking strap on... all I needed was brogues and dungarees and I would be a fully paid up member of the rainbow club.

Her eyes held mine and asked the question without words. I slid my hands down and pulled at her hips

"Are you gonna fuck me with that, or just kneel there like that all night?" I raised my eyebrow in a a classic KFF expression.

"Just thought you might be missing a cock Katiekins" she grinned "Here's one I made earlier"

"Fuck off Eff" I smiled back " But if you're offering, I'm accepting".

With that, she drove that fucking thing into me hard and I arched my back helplessly. Jesus, this girl was definitely going to shag me to death tonight. That was my last conscious thought before sensation took over.

**A/N**

**Next chapter is a Naomily one. Just thought you might like some variety to your smorgasbord of naked delights... ha ha**

**Comments, suggestions and reviews accepted as readily as Katie accepted her purple intruder... Just saying!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N**

**Two updates in one day. I'm proud of myself, even if it is received badly by any readers still vaguely interested in my blah blah... After a brief but stimulating trip into Keffy land (does anyone else think that would have been such a perfect coupling in S4, second only to the lovely Naomily?) What next, err, well back to Naomily for this chapter. But Thomas will appear in the chapter after, if briefly, but not with Pandora. And Cook gets more than he bargained for. Read on if you want, and don't forget to review, even if you don't like what I'm doing with the characters. Please? This is a filler, because I have already written a 6000 worder today, and my fingers are getting calluses. I need to find another, gentler use for them ;P Any suggestions?**

Emily

The sound of the hospital general hubbub woke me first. God I was stiff, and not in a nice way. My head was on the side of the bed, next to my folded arms. My left hand held another hand. A hand I had become very familiar with the past two weeks. Naomi's hand. The one that wasn't in plaster up to the shoulder. She was still unconscious, her brow wrinkled in that way she had of appearing to frown in her sleep. Two weeks and two days I had been here, night and day mostly. Gina had spelled me turn and turn about. Today it was my turn to be here all day. Thank God I was still on compassionate leave after the trauma counsellor had signed me off. And Naomi, being a Cat C prisoner didn't need an escort. Just a side ward.

Naomi wasn't properly unconscious, I mean in the medically induced, coma type thing. She had been, for the first three days, but after the treatment for her brain swelling and Grade 3 concussion took effect, she had gradually emerged into normal sleep patterns. Well, normal for this place. I mean, who the fuck wakes you up at 6am to take a sleeping pill? A nurse is the answer. No, she was actually properly asleep this afternoon. The tracks of her pre sleep tears were still visible on her face. I think she must have said sorry about five million times since she woke to find me by her bedside after the murder attempt. At first, she was in so much pain from the badly broken arm, headaches and bruised pelvis that she hardly spoke at all. Just laid there, tears brimming from those big beautiful blue eyes, looking at me hopelessly.

Despite my solemn promise to myself that I would keep clear, and leave her mother to pick up the pieces, I just couldn't do it in the end. Part of me still burned with the jealousy and depression which overwhelmed me after her little landing show with Ellie. But seeing her helpless, tearful and broken in front of me the day she woke up, I relented. Not completely of course. That little voice inside me was very insistent. "_She __**would**__ have fucked her, you know_" it said slyly "_Fucked her all night_ l_ong. Bet you would have loved to have heard those moans, wouldn't you Emily?_"

That voice had been gradually driving me mad. Whether I was at home or here, at her bedside, I couldn't stop the mental images of her and Ellie, naked and writhing, out of my head. I knew how sensational Naomi looked when she came. How could she have done that with Ellie, after the incredible afternoon we had just shared?

I spared Gina _all_ the details, especially the graphic ones playing over in my brain, but she quickly got the picture.

She had just shaken her head sadly

"That's my Naomi" she said in a quiet voice "Always pushing people away, even the ones she loves. No, _especially_ the ones she loves"

I gave Gina a dark look and said brutally

"She wasn't pushing _Ellie_ away, Gina. In fact, if that Filipino girl hadn't done what she did, I'm sure people would have heard them fucking from as far away as the Suspension Bridge "

A rogue tear appeared on my cheek unbidden, and Gina brushed it away with a kind look.

"Like I said Emily. That's my Naomi. She's so frightened of losing this very special thing you have, she would rather arrange a crisis of her own, just in case you let her down and left her broken . I've never seen her so happy as she was with you"

Again, deep venomous anger burned in me, and I let it all out. Poor Gina.

"_**Crisis?**_" I said sharply "Planning to fuck another girl just after we'd made love all afternoon isn't a _crisis_ Gina, its a total fucking betrayal, and I didn't deserve that, not after what I've risked for her. I should just leave now, end it for good and get on with my life. She doesn't want anyone to care, does she?"

Gina looked at me sadly and shook her head

"I know that would be the logical thing to do Emily. But love isn't logical is it? She's captured your heart, just as she did mine 23 years ago when she took her first breath in the world. I can't leave her, no matter how many times she fucks up. And my daughter has ways of fucking things up like no other human being on the planet, believe me" She looked at Naomi as she finished the sentence and stroked her daughters pale hand lovingly.

"Shall I tell you something no one else knows, Emily?" She shot me a measured sidelong glance.

I nodded, knowing that I should have got up and left before it got to this point. Knowing more about Naomi was bound to make my heart ache even more than it did now. But Gina was right, she _had_ captured my heart and I would at least hear what her mother had to say before walking away for good.

"OK" Gina said, turning to me and releasing Naomi's hand before gripping mine surprisingly tightly. "If she ever finds out I told you this, she will probably disown me, but fuck it, you need to hear this"

"When she was little, she was the sweetest, kindest, most loving child you could ever imagine. Her Dad was gone, but I was living with this guy called Jamie. He was a bit of a hippy, like me, and we spent a lot of time at festivals, sit ins and demonstrations. They were inseparable. He was a big guy, beard, long hair and a laugh that would split the atom. Larger than life. I was happy. Naomi was happy and life was good. When she was 7, he wanted to adopt her as his own. We didn't believe in all that marriage bullshit, but I knew he would be a great father to her, and we started to put the plans in place to make him her proper Dad"

"Then it happened. He was on a demonstration against capitalism, Central London. Naomi and I were back at home when we got the call from the hospital. Nothing dramatic, no police brutality or violence. He was apparently just sitting in the road, blocking the traffic, with a hundred others, when he stopped shouting, fell sideways and just died"

"Massive heart attack, dead before he hit the floor, you know the story"

"My God, how awful for both of you" I said, my hand at my mouth

"It was" Gina smiled sadly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears "I was devastated, overwhelmed with despair, and I suppose I didn't really think how this would affect Naomi. I mean. She had lost her 'Dad' twice now, I know, but I shut myself away, crying non stop, and because she seemed to deal with it in her own silent, way, I forgot that she hadn't really grieved, not properly"

"So after the funeral and when months went past, I picked up the pieces of my life, slowly I admit, but I had her to look after and I had realised by then that she needed me, and sort of threw myself into being the type of mum she deserved. There's been no one else since, not for me... and then, when Naomi was 13, she discovered that she was gay"

"13?" I said stupidly "That was early"

"Well. She was always what you call an early developer. Periods at 11, boobs appearing at the same time. Raging hormones. You must remember all that Emily?"

I nodded. I certainly did. My own proper coming out may have been delayed by a few years, but I remember school gym showers being an endurance test for me. Unlike Naomi, I had no tits to speak of until I was almost 14, but stealing sly glances at other girls when they changed into gym kit certainly gave me some lurid ammunition for my, err nocturnal explorations alone in my bed. And that was before I acquired my famous 'Fanny Box' as James called it. Actually it was a lot tamer than it sounds. Mostly cut out pictures of rock chicks and hot celebrities, but there was that Penthouse I had nicked out of my Dad's garage. Until I was 15 I thought grown women had staples in their stomachs... It isn't only boys who make the pages sticky...

"Yes" I said carefully "I do"

"Well, she had this friend Elizabeth. Best friend really. They hung out right from primary school, through middle school too. When they were both 13, I think Naomi tried to take the friendship a bit further. She hasn't really talked about it, but I gather from another mum, and..."she paused, "some graffiti I saw on the gates behind the school, that Naomi and Elizabeth had a little fling. Trouble was, Elizabeth was very popular with the boys already, even more 'developed' than Naomi was, and a bit further down the line in the petting stakes"

I grinned at the word petting. Does anyone actually say that any more, apart from teachers and mums?

"So, they had their little fling, Naomi fell in love 'properly' with Elizabeth, and we know how first love hurts, don't we?" She carried on.

"Elizabeth grew tired of the girl stuff and slept with a boy. He pumped her for information about her past and she told him about Naomi. Result, the whole school found out, rumours grew into outright lies, and Naomi was devastated. It wasn't until she kissed you at that party..."

My eyes must have betrayed my surprise at her knowledge of 'that' kiss

"Yes, she told me about that. Said she had met this wonderful girl who kissed her unconscious" She grinned at my blushes

"But then the girls twin sister attacked her physically and the girl herself basically ignored her whenever they saw each other afterwards"

I hung my head in shame at her words. It was all painfully true. Once Katie had dragged me away, calling me stupid, not gay, I accepted her version of events as if it had been fact. The lezza had kissed me, I wasn't gay. End result, several years of pretending I was straight, suffering under a succession of thrusting males, wondering why the only person who could ever make me come was me.

I held up my hand.

"OK, thats all too true. The girl was me, and I'm ashamed it was. So what you're saying is that Naomi is so used to rejection and humiliation, she fucks everything up just so she's the one in control, no matter how much it hurts?"

Gina nodded "That's it in a nutshell Emily, thats my Naomi"

I swallowed hard. "OK, I'll stick around. I hate being a stereotype anyway" I offered Gina a weak smile.

"Great" she said simply.

So here I was, sleeping with my head on a NHS bed, beside a beautiful, damaged creature who was trying heroically to fuck up our fledgling relationship, even when she was unconscious. I certainly knew how to pick them.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Fishing it out, I groaned when I saw the caller ID. Fucking Sophia. When was that bunny boiler gonna accept that our one off shag was just that, a once in a lifetime, never to be repeated mistaken fuck. I looked down my message log. 28 missed calls, 15 text messages, all from her. I contemplated sending her a one off "Fuck off and Die" message, but really, that isn't me. So I settled for putting the phone back on silent after deleting her messages.

Naomi stirred again, and I slid my hand under hers so she would feel me there when she woke up. To be honest, she was recovering quite quickly, despite her severe injuries. Her headaches were now faint and not so frequent. She was off morphine and on normal painkillers and even her ribs and pelvis weren't as painful. Her arm was still in plaster, and would be for another 3 weeks, but as she had been complaining more about itching than agony lately, I guessed that was well on the way to being mended. I hadn't told her much about my friend Zoe being killed, just that I had lost a close friend. But she had seen the sadness in my eyes, and that had set off another "sorry" jag, accompanied by lots of tears. I had kissed them away, even as I hated myself for giving in so easily.

But after Gina's tales of Naomi's childhood, I was feeling a lot more relaxed about the future. But I was still raw about Ellie, and we both avoided mentioning her. Ellies little homicidal love button was back in Holloway, facing charges of attempted murder and GBH. None of us would be seeing her any time soon. Ellie had also been transferred to another wing. Nothing to do with me, but the Number One Governor had taken charge of the situation and it was protocol to separate the involved parties after an 'incident' of this nature. The fact that it had happened in front of the entire wing meant that there wasn't much I could add to the enquiry afterwards. It was likely Naomi would be sent back to Larkwood after she recovered, but all options were open to the Number One. I just hoped I could have some influence on his decision. But for that to happen, I would have to go back to work. Something I wasn't prepared to do just yet.

"Em...Emily?" She said as she woke, still groggy from the effects of the 6am sleeping tablet

"Shhh" I whispered "I'm here baby"

She smiled a sweet smile, and my heart swelled. Despite what she had threatened to do, I was in love with this girl, and I couldn't just switch that off.

"Drink of water?" she said thickly and I passed her a fresh glass from the top of the cabinet, holding it up to her lips and letting her sip slowly.

"Better?" I said, dabbing a tissue at her lips and thinking entirely inappropriately about the last time I had seen her lips this wet.

Fucking immediately busted of course, because as usual, she was watching my face like a hawk.

"You weren't thinking about taking advantage of me were you Miss?" she said cheekily

"After what you got up to, I think thats a bit unlikely Naomi" I said more harshly than I meant to.

Her eyes filled with tears immediately, and I felt like a shit.

"I'm so sorry" she sobbed, I'm so fucking sorry Ems"

I shushed her, but she was really crying now and I racked my brains for something to distract her.

"Hey" I said brightly "I bet that arms going to curtail any 'after lights out' activity for a good while huh?"

She looked up at me and tried a weak smile

"Yeah. Its not as if I am left handed either" she joked "I'll just have to suffer in silence"

I smirked at her and saw the understanding in her eyes

"You mean?" she stuttered

"All part of the service ma'am" I saluted comically "That's if you're feeling up to it, and the nurse from hell doesn't appear with the liquid cosh to send you back to Narnia.

Naomi looked up at the wall clock over the door behind me

"Its early yet, she's not due back for an hour at least. And to answer your question, not only do I feel a lot better today, but looking at your tits Miss Fitch, has given me an itch I think only you can scratch"

I giggled at her eagerness and rapid fire words.

I leaned over the bed and slid my hand under the covers. Her thighs parted quickly as my hand slid under the conveniently open hospital gown.

I watched her eyes grow dark as I slid my hand lower, feeling the heat from her excitement. Soon my fingers were exploring soft wet folds, and her head went back on the pillow.

I stopped my sly movements and her eyes opened, frantically searching for mine.

"Emily!" she hissed "Don't stop baby, thats so fucking good"

"Well, pay attention Miss Campbell", I said opening two buttons on my top, so she could see the tops of my boobs. "There are two friends of yours somewhere in here"

She smiled as I opened another button. She could see the whole of my breasts, and now she could also see I hadn't got a bra on.

"Fuck" she moaned, eyes fixed on my erect nipples "Play with me Emily...please"

So I did. I fingered her slowly and deliberately, making it last. Soon her eyes became unfocussed and wide, I could see the pulse monitor attached to her other hand sending frantic signals to the machine next to her. I pulled it off her finger before resuming my slow torture. No point in having the crash team piling in here over a silly orgasm huh?

When she came, it was wonderful. For a split second the thought of her and Ellie sharing a moment like this spoiled my enjoyment. But then I remembered Gina's words and rode my lover through the orgasm forcefully, thrusting my two fingers in and out of her while she gasped and bucked on the hospital bed. Finally I drew my fingers out of her, still glistening with her sweet come. I slid them into my mouth while she watched with hot eyes. My eyes rolled at the sensual taste.

"_This_, and YOU Campbell" I said, "are MINE, right?" Pulling my fingers out of my mouth.

She nodded nervously, her chest still rising and falling quickly as the aftershocks shook her.

I think I made my point.

**A/N**

**More fun and frolics with Bristols gay girls (all 4 of them) on Sunday. I pulled a totally boring Sunday shift, and as Its December, and it will be as quiet as Jimmy Savilles in-box, I'm going to take my net-book in and write MOAR!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N**

**So this little chapter is a bit different. Instead of one person POV, I've tried to get a taste of everyone's thinking in. It may prove a bit confusing at first, but I'll try to make it readable! Thanks again to my faithful and long suffering readers, and welcome to the new ones. I am so grateful that you guys take the time to review and make me feel as if I'm not alone in keeping the Naomily flame alive. I'm almost at 100 reviews which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Pretty please review this one and maybe I'll make it to my century?**

**Anyway, where were we? Oh, and I don't own Skins, otherwise S7 would be a tangled mess of naked Naomily limbs for two hours. So there.**

Naomi

Well, life has returned to what passes for normal for me these days. I'm back in Larkwood, have been for 3 weeks now. Emily is still my Wing Governor and part time lover. I have been relocated to what we call in prisons 'The Ones' which is the ground floor for normal people. Mainly because my pelvis still gives me trouble with stairs so they've taken pity on me and I'm down with the elderly and the infirm. Nice. My job in the library has been kept open for me, so I have been catching up on my OU coursework and modules. Ellie is history, having been transferred to another prison after a bust up with a screw in A block. So have no friends to talk to, the default position for Naomi Campbell, yeah?

The murderous Filipino muff muncher is currently in Holloway, having been charged with trying to off me. Rumour has it that they may reduce the charges to GBH from attempted murder if she pleads guilty. Obviously she thought my super powers would enable me to swoop over the wing after she tipped me over the landing rail and land elegantly on the opposite side. Bitch. Part of me, despite the pain from my injuries, shares a portion of the blame for that little episode, mind. If I hadn't made such a show of claiming Ellie, I wouldn't be in this position, would I. Oh, and to complete my update, there's Emily, yeah, that Emily.

Things have been, well... strained, since I got back. We lived for a few weeks in that strange hospital bubble, and it was a shock to both of us, I think, when life returned to 'normal' for Prisoner Campbell and Wing Governor Fitch. It's not that we both don't have strong feelings for each other. We still share hot exchanges of glances and stares when we think we can get away with it, but her trips to the library in the evening have slowed to a trickle. I think she has only had one conversation with me since Monday, and its Thursday today. My own patented Campbell anxiety radar is

on full at the moment. I always fear the worse, and Emily is giving off definite disengagement signals, which are making me brick it. We had a long chat on Monday, but it was more about what Effy and Katie are doing to worm their way into White and Cooks murky world. It frightens the shit out of me. I know Effy comes across as almost superhuman and downright clairvoyant, but she is a fragile creature under that fuck off and die exterior. I know. I was her best friend when Freddie happened and I watched her façade crumble to dust under the pressure of

real life tragedy. Anyway, apparently Effy has taken Katie under her wing (oh, and I need to ask her about _that_ next time she comes up, Effy doesn't normally do sisterly love, its usually much more lust based!) and they are teaming up to get the low down on the Bristol drugs supply situation. To be honest I don't know what they are going to do with that information, given that they get it at all without being murdered, raped or both. Like I said, frightens the shit out of me, and I know Emily is even more worried than me. Her eyes get that haunted look whenever we talk about Katie.

But that's not the whole story, and there's just something not right between us. Every time I try to talk to her about it, she clams up and flips me off with platitudes. Not ever going to work with me, and I think she knows that. Something has intruded on our exclusive little relationship, and I need to know what.

I have a dark and desperate suspicion that it has something to do with that nurse who looked after me the last week I was there. Tara, her name was. Trouble is, I have absolutely no credit in the Bank of Trust, do I? Frankly, after my performance with Ellie, I am overdrawn, about to default and possibly full blown bankrupt in that respect. How can I accuse Emily of being unfaithful after what I did?

Actually, this Tara looked like she was going to be more of a problem for me than Emily at first. One of the embarrassing things you have to endure when you're bed bound is being washed by a nurse. Now don't get me wrong, any other time in my short but eventful life I would have happily submitted to a naked bed bath from a pretty hot late twenties nurse with improbable tits and the face of a cherub. Tara was Welsh, with a lilting accent that just made her more attractive. Long blonde hair, honey blonde, not like my bottle based platinum. Like I said, big tits, which even looked good in scrubs, which is difficult. She came into my room after Emily and I had enjoyed a rather heated 'help session' and I saw her eyes widen when Emily jumped back from the bed with a face almost as red as her magnificent hair.

Tara had flashed a smile at both of us which said quite clearly "I know at least one of you has just been pleasured, I'm just working out which one"

It was me, of course. I have never been able to disguise that 'just fucked look' after sex, and today was no exception. Emily left shortly after, her embarrassment still obvious and fuck me if Tara didn't wink at her as she did. I thought Emily was going to self combust. We had a couple of seconds of awkward silence before Tara spoke

"It's OK Naomi" she smiled openly "It's allowed, you know" and flashed me the same broad wink

I grinned at her. My gaydar was beeping hard in my head, and I could see she was amused, not shocked.

"She's very attractive...your girlfriend" she said, looking for my reaction as she spoke

"Not my girlfriend" I said stupidly "It's err... complicated" I finished even more lamely.

"Nice of her to lend a helping hand then" she smiled, and we both giggled at the insane turn this conversation had taken. For fuck sake, she had interrupted Emily fingering me, and nothing I said would fool her now.

"Yeah, she's very handy" I said, spluttering at my razor wit, **not**.

"Nimble?" she said, still chuckling

"You have no idea" I said "Virtuoso, that one"

Again we shared an 'all girls together here' laugh

"Right" she said, suddenly serious "You, Missy, need a bath, and the Consultant has said you can't get out of bed until Tuesday at the earliest, so I am your hand maid for the day"

"Fucking hell" I said, blushing myself (and yes I do blush!) "Two pretty women wanting to get me naked in one day. Did I walk through the back of the wardrobe in my sleep?"

"It may not be Narnia, Miss Campbell, but someone has to do it" she smiled again, raising a quizzical eyebrow at my attempt to be clever.

Rather than saying any more, she stripped off the single sheet covering me in one practised move and started to unbutton the front of my gown. Unlike the old fashioned type of hospital bed wear, this one at least had the grace to avoid embarrassing gapes at the back. Not that that helped in the current situation, of course. With professional skill, Tara had me naked in seconds. I felt as though I should have covered myself with my hands, but mentally kicked myself as I realised that she would have seen this a thousand times before. Another naked girl wasn't going to shock her, was it?

She pulled a small trolley to the side of the bed and clicked the catch on the door before walking back and casting a glance up and down my body.

"OK, Naomi" she said. I am going to wash your face and body now. I'll be using a sanitised cloth, but you can ask me to wear gloves too, if you wish"

I shook my head" Fucks sake, I'm not radioactive", I thought,

She dipped the cloth in the wash bowl on the trolley, applied some soap to the material and started. It was surprisingly OK, actually. She kept up a stream of small talk as she worked, cleaning my face thoroughly before propping me up on the bed and washing my back. It started to feel great , being properly clean. After she finished my back, she laid me back and started on my front. The process continued with just the minor embarrassment of having an attractive blonde rubbing soap over my tits, but I endured it manfully. (OK, it was actually quite stimulating, but she was just being thorough, right?)

Obviously when she had finished my legs, there was only one place left to go, and I gritted my teeth, waiting for her to finish the job. I remember thinking she was being particularly careful to make sure I was spotless down there, but maybe I was just being paranoid. Finally, she looked up at my eyes, noticing I am sure my slightly flushed appearance.

"All done Naomi" she said breezily "I've had worse jobs today" And smiled cheekily

"Actually" I said primly "I could get used to being manhandled by two pretty women in one day"

"Err, I think your...friend was more interested in getting you dirty, not clean" She laughed

This time I flashed her a wink, and it was her turn to blush slightly.

So we chatted some more, on safer ground, after she slid a clean gown over my freshly scrubbed body and settled me back onto my pillows, making sure my plaster wasn't uncomfortable, and that my bruised ribs didn't need some more painkillers.

She passed me some magazines and I groaned theatrically when I saw the covers. Katie Price and Peter Andre... Our Hell, or some such self serving bullshit. How the fuck those two manage to fill hours of airtime and magazine footage with their entirely predicable and, to me at least, pointless lives is a mystery. Their entire life histories could be encapsulated on the back of a small postage stamp. The words ageing slapper and feeble minded prat would do, really.

"Not a fan of celebs?" Tara arched a manicured eyebrow at my obvious disgust.

"I would rather have hat pins surgically inserted into my clit, than read about them" I said caustically

"I think you can only get that if you go private" she said dead pan. Again we shared a full on laugh together.

So all in all, I thought this harmless banter was OK. I mean. I was never going to let things go any further anyway, and I had to something to while away the boring hours. Celeb magazines apart, that is.

Emily came again that evening, and she and Tara shared a few words before she left. Then the next day I noticed that Emily was outside for a few minutes chatting to someone before she came in to see me. Inevitably it was Tara. Then the weekend came and for the first time since I was in the hospital, Emily made an excuse and didn't come. She was in again on Monday, but fucking Tara was there again, checking my temperature, fiddling with the bedclothes and generally making sure I didn't get up to anything with Emily. It was starting to piss me off. I didn't need continuous hand massages from Emily, but some kisses, apart from hello and goodbye would have been nice.

Then on my last day there, when I was in a pretty dark place anyway, the prospect of Larkwood, prison food and another 1000 days of captivity looming I saw something I knew had 'wrong' stamped all over it. I was mobile by then, at least the hospital had allowed me to use a wheelchair to whizz about the corridors, prior to actually walking at last. Emily had just left, after promising that she had taken care of things back at the prison. I was going to be on light duties, relocated onto the ones and with a couple of outpatient appointments already made to check my progress. She had also retrieved the mobile phone which had miraculously still been inside the bed frame tube in my room. She said she would hang on to it until I was given a permanent location, just in case I got a cell spin by sheer bad luck. As I had got used to face to face contact with Emily, I wasn't as arsey about that as I would have if I had still been up on the 2nd landing. After all, we would both be on the same level, which should give us more opportunities for meetings, yeah?

But I was just looking out of my ward window, watching for Emily to reach the car park when I saw Tara hanging about outside, next to what I knew was Emily's white Golf Gti.

My eyes narrowed as I saw Emily walk to her car and engage in some fairly animated conversation with my nurse. Tara must have said something funny, because I saw Emily's head tip back and her mouth open as she laughed out loud at whatever it was. The green eyed monster in me roared its protest and a bolt of pure hatred surged through my brain. She was fucking flirting. Even from up here on the fourth floor, I could see that they both were fucking flirting. Bitch.

I couldn't stop watching, of course. You never can, can you? I remember when I got briefly attached to a girl at college for a while. Nancy, I remember. Love and flowers for both of us, for a month or so anyway. We had a real connection, or so I thought at the time. One night, when we were at a club, I lost sight of her for 15 minutes or so. Searched both dance floors, three bars and two sets of toilets before I found her. Well, I say found her. I heard her. Locked in a cubicle with some random. The same shit she had moaned in my ear was being wasted on some pissed straight girl with knickers round her ankles in some skanky toilet. Couldn't walk away. Stood there listening to the whole performance. All the Oh God's and Fuck me's... every bit of it. Like self mutilation really. I couldn't tear myself away, physically impossible.

When she finally emerged, face flushed and grinning at her conquest, I just stood there, eyes brimming with unshed tears. I recall her face changing. Triumph at making a straight girl come replaced with horror at being caught. I never even waited for the excuses. Just turned and walked away, the memories of what I heard echoing in my brain all night.

Just like I felt now, watching my lover flirt with some fucking cunt who had` pretended to be my friend. Watched as Emily passed her mobile to Tara, and watched Tara key in her number. If I hadn't been so consumed with guilt at how I had treated Emily, I might have opened the window and screamed at them. But I didn't. Didn't have the right, you see. Made all the excuses for Emily I could. Just a friend, just going to meet up for coffee, just casual acquaintances, nothing to see here. You know the drill...

And now here we are, back in Larkwood. Both tap dancing round the issues we will have to deal with sooner or later. I can't find it in myself to hate her, can't make myself just come out and ask her. But there is something in her eyes. Something that tells me I'm not being paranoid. She may not have actually fucked her...yet, but she's cheating mentally already. I fucking know it..

Emily

I am _such_ a fucking coward, I hate myself sometimes. Particularly now. Naomi is back on the wing. Things can start to get back to 'normal' now, whatever the fuck that means in this twisted world I'm living in. She didn't die. She didn't cheat (well, she would have done, but I seem to have been able to forgive her for that, even if I can't actually picture that moment without mentally screaming) Katie and Effy seem to have constructed a real friendship out of this nightmare. And **that's** a sentence I never ever thought I would be able to say out loud. Katie Fitch being friends with another girl. Particularly a hot, sensual girl like Effy. Katie has spent her entire life competing. Competing with me for our parents attention, competing with every girl in her year to see who can pull the hottest boys. Competing with every skank to see how many stiff cocks she can inhale in one day. Girls like Effy Stonem would never have even appeared on Katie's radar as anything other than lethal threats up to now. And yet they seem attached at the hip. Although Katie is supposedly staying at mine while her latest romantic disaster empties his bank account into hers as penance for disappointing my sister, she is staying at Eff's most nights. If Katie wasn't the straightest female I know I would say for certain that Effy is shagging her senseless. But that's just stupid. Katie and muff are not compatible.

But the uncertainty I feel isn't about my sisters sex life, its about my own. Well, lack of one really. Apart from performing my girl-friendly duties for the incapable Naomi in hospital, I haven't had much at all really. Not even the self pleasuring type. Haven't been in the mood for it after visiting Naomi and worrying about Katie. I'm not exactly Effy fuck me Stonem, but even when I was wasting my life with Danny, I usually managed to have a self help session a couple of times a week. My trusty rabbit had always lived on a healthy diet of batteries, but its sits in my bedside cabinet these days, unloved and unused. Poor Sophie.. (Don't laugh, my vibe has a lovely name!) She's given me a lot of memorable moments, I can tell you. Wasn't it Woody Allen that said masturbation is sex with someone you love, so what's not to like? Then again, he shagged his under-age stepdaughter, so maybe that's not the best advice to be taking.

But that's not even the half of it. Naomi knows I have secrets, and sooner or later I will have to tell her what's happening outside these walls. Tara Jones, that's what. Not that we've done anything. Not even kissed. But she wants to, she's made that _very_ clear.

It started innocently enough. Well as innocently as can be conceived when you've just been caught getting your girlfriend off under the sheets on a hospital bed. Tara was really cool about it, next time I visited. She was obviously gay. I mean, my gaydar is no way as advanced as Naomi's obviously is, but I can now tell when I'm being checked out. She was very subtle at first, managing to be around every time I visited. Brief chats, some very light flirting. I was flattered. It's not as if I have much experience of being wooed. Naomi and I went from eye fucking to actual fucking in about ten minutes...Being in the situation we are of course, it's not your usual romance, is it? Stolen moments, shared looks, the odd frantic shag against the library door. Not exactly Mills & Boone... I DO love her, that hasn't changed. But everything is so fucking difficult, especially now she is more than just another inmate. Being thrown over the railings to almost certain death has brought her some notoriety. Girls in here are hungry for excitement. Whether that comes from another girls fingers or the vicarious type from watching a drama unfold, it doesn't matter. Its all grist to the prison rumour mill. So us being star turns in the am dram of the last month has just made the attention more pronounced. We` have to be doubly careful.

And that's where Tara has come in. Our chats in the corridor after hospital visits turned into coffee's in the staff canteen on the ground floor. I knew she found me attractive. It wasn't all harmless flirting. Some serious eye fucking came my way with it. Let's face it, if I had met Tara just after I had decided to dump Danny, things might have turned out very differently. She is older than me at 28, taller and obviously more experienced. Her hair is a beautiful honey blonde and she has a really sweet face. All white teeth and dimples . And don't get me on to those tits... After seeing her in the blue scrubs she wore on duty, I wasn't prepared for the time I bumped into her (accidentally of course) outside Casualty on my way home. She was wearing really tight blue skinnys with Uggs on her feet, a short black leather jacket and a white sleeveless tee underneath. I blushed furiously when she saw me checking out her tits. They were pretty impressive. 36 C I reckon, and that's a whole new ball game for me. I don't think many people have been that impressed with my tits, male or female. Emily's fried eggs as Katie used to put it...

Anyway, I was busted, so what? Then, on Naomi's last day in the Royal, she waited for me in the car park, next to my car. A bit stalkerish, I suppose, but I was feeling better now things were getting back to normal,and I shared a joke with her happily enough. She was very funny, always lots of anecdotes about other nurses and doctors. Jesus, the amount of on duty shagging that goes on in there, I'm surprised many patients survive the visit.

So when she asked me for my number, I found myself taking my phone out of my pocket. She took it from my hand and keyed in her name and number, before giving it back. Her fingers lingered on mine for just a second or so too long, but I wasn't complaining, if I am honest. Treacherous bitch that I am.

We haven't actually done anything, like I said, but it's heading that way. I'm not _that_ naive.

Part of me says fuck it, Naomi cheated, why should I care. Part of me says fuck that, why be a bitch too, haven't you got any self control? I can't answer that at the moment. I wish I knew which Emily is going to emerge from all this.

Katie

"Hurry _UP_ bitch" I hear from the lounge and fucking completely ignore it. I might have changed a lot over the past three weeks, but Katie Fucking Fitch doesn't hurry in the bathroom, its the 11th commandment.

Effy of course was ready in about 2.3 seconds as usual. That girl must have 20 identical outfits, I don't understand why. Black skinnys, black boots, not studded this time, but fucking expensive. I can tell from the leather. A totally inappropriately sheer see through cotton shirt with a black bra underneath and some clunky beads. Fuck me, does she not know this is a science, dressing to impress? I have been in here an hour. First the shower, body lotion and some not so subtle musky perfume I can't pronounce dabbed in a few strategic places. Some of them where only someone very determined will ever smell it. I smirk at that thought. Then the hair, up tonight, I think. My new black Basque, which shows off my tits a treat. Holds me in like a Christmas trussed turkey. I'll be glad to get myself out of it later, but a girl has to suffer to look like this, you know? I will be wearing a ridiculously expensive and very short blue silk dress over it, with enough buttons undone at the front to leave no doubt about what I have underneath. Black hold up silk stockings which cost me another kings ransom, and a pair of shiny patent leather dress shoes will do nicely, I think.

At least I would think, if Effy would stop reminding me we are late. Who fucking cares? When we make an entrance at this so called 'exclusive' party on Johnny's moored motor yacht in the marina, I want the only sound to be the that of tinkling glass as the silicone skanks drop their champagne glasses at the sight of Effy and me walking in.

Effy hammers on the door and I reluctantly open it to let her in. She's not pleased.

"Jesus Katie" she fumes "Girl wants a piss here?" walking past me and sliding her jeans down before sitting on the toilet

"Fucks sake Effy" I moan "I do **not** want to see your muff in the mirror while I'm putting my lipstick on"

"Didn't seem to bother you last night" she smirks, running her eyes up and down my body, taking in the tightness of the Basque no doubt. "Oh Effy" she squeaks in a totally unfunny impression of me "Deeper, please"

I blush stupidly and flip her a finger as she wipes herself and joins me at the sink, washing her hands,

"Must have been some other woman you're thinking of" I smirk back "I'm the straight twin, remember?"

She slides behind me and looks over my shoulder, resting her chin on me as I carry on applying some lip gloss. Her hands travel up my sides, finally cupping my tits, gently squeezing. I shudder, remembering how she played my body deep into the night. She's a tiger, this one.

"Yeah, right" she smiles "the straight twin who is suddenly addicted to pussy"

"Fuck off" I say, without malice "You've corrupted me Effy Stonem. It's nothing to be proud of"

"Oh, I don't know" she laughs "I'm VERY proud of what a good muff muncher you are. It's all my own work!"

I blush. Something I hate at the best of times, but being reminded by Effy that I'm now a fully paid up member of the Cunnilingus Club is still a bit new to me.

Her other hand slides over my stomach, slipping inside my black knickers before I can stop her. I drop my lip gloss in the sink and swear at her for 10 seconds, while she laughs at my expression in the mirror. She keeps her hand where it is and I feel her inquiring fingers explore me. I tremble as the skilful circles she traces on me and in me work their magic.

"Thought we were late?" I say, in a voice suddenly low with need

"Fashionably late" she breathes, using that fucking lethal tongue in a completely inappropriate manner in my ear. Jesus Christ on a bike, she knows that's something I cannot resist. She turns me towards her and I feel her mouth close over mine, tongue now searching for my own.

She breaks away before reaching for my hand and pulling me towards the bedroom. I sigh, am I totally unable to resist her. I know the answer before the thought even finishes. Course I am...

"Another 15 minutes won't hurt, I suppose" I say uncertainly

"Maybe half an hour?" she smiles, unzipping the Basque at the back and cupping my naked tits in her warm hands.

I drop to the bed beside her and begin to moan as she makes love to me for the fourth time today. This girl is going to kill me with love...eventually.

An hour and a half later (OK, I had to return the favour, OK?) we walked up the wide gangway to the boat. Two gorillas in monkey suits scanned our invites and let us past, two pairs of eyes molesting our bodies as we walked by. The party was in full swing. Lots of tinsel, flashing lights and scantily clad bimbos spun round, drinking pink champagne from long stemmed glasses. Another night in the company of Cook and White, purveyors of quality drugs to the gentry.

The tab of industrial strength Ecstasy and the bottle of Krug Effy and I had` drunk after fucking each other senseless earlier were doing their job. My feet felt like I was floating. Despite Eff's best efforts to kill me with sex, another orgasm was definitely on the cards if she played her cards right tonight. I grabbed a pair of glasses from a passing waiter and we added to the champagne inside us. Cook spotted us and bellowed for us to join him and JW at the top table. Another night in paradise, I thought. Little did I know how wrong I could be,

**A/N**

**On that little teaser, I will leave our heroines for now. Naomi back in the slammer, Emily tempted by a Welsh undresser, Katie loved up but vulnerable even with Effy to guide her. What could possible go wrong?**

**Sorry if the idea of Emily cheating grates. I have a plan! Oh, and the Welsh nurse comes from my own totally inappropriate girl crush on Tara Bethan, a Welsh actress who appears in Pobl y Cwm (Welsh for People of the Valley) playing a part time nurse/pub landlady. Pobl is a soap, similar to EastEnders for my foreign readers. Google her name and tell me you wouldn't...LIAR!**

**Tara Bethan is gorgeous, buxom and _very_ sexy. If she ever decided she was gay, I would be under her in a heartbeat! Just saying. Ha ha Slut that I am. Of course, that would all go out of the window if either Lily or Kat beckoned first. Oh well, we all know that's never gonna happen. Drat!**

**Review, you lovely people. I can promise much more angst, broken hearts, bodies and promises and _lots_ of smut, promise!**

**Open to suggestions here!**

**Nancy x**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N**

**Thanks as always to my lovely readers and reviewers. Your comments and suggestions keep me interested and motivated. There will be a change of pace from now on. I quite like the varied POV format, so you may find that several characters appear in each chapter. Hope you like it. Also, after some heart searching, I have decided to concentrate more on the emotion than the mechanics of the relationships. That doesn't mean that Naomily, or Keffy for that matter will be less...physical. But I think wall to wall smut is leading me into areas that may be less appealing to readers. Having said that, there will be smut in this chapter, it was already planned in to explain something, so apologies (not that you care!) Many thanks to TillyHo, tanner12 and marsupial1974 for the comments. And not to forget the other loyal and amusing reviewers. Nearly at 100 reviews now. I was hoping to get 100 _readers_, let alone reviews!**

_**This chapter comes with a violence warning. Not nice at the end. If you are a Cook fan, you probably shouldn't read on. OK?**_

**Anyway on with the show. Skins isn't mine, yadda yadda...**

Emily

What the fuck I thought I was doing, I don't know. I woke up this morning with a foul taste of stale bourbon in my mouth and a serious headache. Going out in a week night is a no no for me usually anyway, but in my current state of mind it was virtually suicidal. It had been a bad week so far, and by Wednesday I knew I had to do something to break the monotony and my depressed mood. Things with Naomi had reached breaking point and I knew I would have to have 'that' conversation with her imminently. You know, the "We need to talk" conversation.

We definitely needed to talk. Our conversations this past fortnight have been getting shorter and shorter. Even the longing looks were gone. We had got into a routine of almost avoiding each other. When she did look at me, it was with that "what have I done?" look that stabbed me in the heart every time. Truth is, she hasn't done anything, and before anyone jumps to conclusions, neither have I. OK, I went out with Tara last night, but it was a fucking disaster for both of us. I gave in when she texted me on Monday and agreed to go out for a drink. I know, I know... Why do I want to go out with anyone else, I mean, I love Naomi, don't I?

So we ended up in some pseudo theme bar, with American signs on the wall and all the character of an operating theatre. After a couple of far too strong JD's and cola, I let it all out. Poor woman. Here she was thinking I was up for, well I don't know what, but what she actually got was a protracted confession from me about my love for Naomi. I'm surprised she stayed as long as she did. Conversations with an attractive woman about another attractive woman don't usually go down too well. It was Naomi this and Naomi that. By the time I was on my fourth bourbon, I could see her eyes were glazing over. Finally, as I reached for my hanky for the tenth time, she put her hand over mine on the table. I flinched as she did, and saw the flash of disappointment in her pretty eyes.

"Emily" she said kindly "Listen honey. I want you to know something, OK?"

I nodded stupidly, dabbing at my eyes with my other hand.

"I really fancy you" she said, holding my watery gaze with her own.

"But, it's not a goer, is it?" She shook her head sadly at my nodded acceptance of her statement.

"Another time, another place, huh?" she said quietly and again I nodded, My throat was constricted and I didn't really trust myself to answer without bursting into sobs.

Finally I managed to speak without embarrassing myself

"Tara. You're such a lovely person. I mean if I wasn't..." she gripped my hand harder and nodded

"Yeah, I know the drill Emily. It's not you its me, right?"

She took a deep breath and released my hand

"Listen. If you want some free advice, before we go our separate ways, here it is...If you love Naomi as much as you seem to, you need to _fight_ for her. Nothing in this world comes easy, and you certainly seem to pick the difficult ones"

She swallowed hard and continued

"As hard as it must be for you , you need to realise it's twice as complicated for her, OK?"

"Here you are, sitting in a bar with another woman, drink in front of you, with a comfortable home waiting for you when you've had enough"

She grinned at the way my eyes widened when she described herself as another woman. But Jesus, she was right. In any other life, right?

"If things weren't the way I see them now Emily" she said, looking at me straight in the eyes "I would be seducing you tonight" My heart thumped at the mental image that statement produced. "But they aren't, and I won't" she finished

"Whatever it is you two have is precious, right?" I nodded in answer

"Well fucking value it then Emily" she hissed, suddenly not so understanding "and stop pissing about with me"

"You're right, Tara" I said sadly "My life seems to have been turned upside down and inside out these past weeks, and I'm so sorry you've been caught in the crossfire. I never meant to lead you on..."

"I'm a big girl Emily" she said, finally letting go of my hand and sitting back in her chair "But that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed". Her smile was a little sad, and it made me swallow hard again. Tears were again close to the surface and I blinked them away.

She leaned closer again, lowering her voice so we couldn't be overheard

"Go back to Naomi. Show you you love her. Not just with sex. Show her in all the little ways you know will make her happy. It's going to be difficult, picking up the pieces, but if you both want the same thing, it _will_ happen"

She sat up straight again. "Right, well, I'm not going to get laid tonight, so that only leaves one thing" She grinned, although her eyes still had that sadness in them "Lets get monumentally fucked up, OK?"

I raised my glass, smiling back. If I was honest, relief was my main emotion. I'm not a cheater, never have been, and Tara removing temptation from me was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in a while. I liked her, yes, really liked her. But this would be the last time we would be out together, I knew that.

I don't even particularly like bourbon. And after that night, I doubt I will ever be a convert. I don't have a clue how many we drank. I remember karaoke, fending off an over friendly drunk on my way to the toilets at least once, but most of the rest is buried in an alcoholic blur. Probably for the best, I think. Tara poured me into a cab at midnight, and after spending a good 10 minutes trying to get my key into the lobby lock, I finally managed to drag myself upstairs and into my flat. I looked at the bathroom, considering for a second cleaning my teeth. It seemed that the sink was several miles away, so I hiccuped a boozy "Fuck it" to myself and flopped on the bed, fully clothed.

Which was how I found myself this morning. Hung over, hot and sweaty from sleeping in my clothes and with a mouth which tasted like a Saudi Arabian taxi drivers jock strap. I did at least manage to get to the bathroom this time. Just in time to throw up the contents of my stomach in the loo. Nice. Several minutes moaning into the white bowl was enough to solidify my resolve never, ever to drink on a week night again. Luckily it was still early. My bleary eyes registered 10 on the living room clock as I staggered into the kitchen, desperately seeking Paramol. Two tablets, a pint of orange juice and half an hour later I was approaching human existence again. My shift started at 3 today, so I reckoned I had an evens chance to make it alive. It took hard work, twenty minutes in a really hot shower and two more Paramol before I started to piece together my night with Tara. She had been a really good friend to me. Better than I would have been under these circumstances. Listening to a maudlin drunk is wearing at the best of times, but I shuddered when I remembered how, towards the end of that bourbon soaked evening, how I had told her in far too graphic detail how talented Naomi was with her fingers. Jesus Emily, have you no sensitivity at all, I cursed myself. Poor Tara.

Dressing for work was a bit of a trial, but finally I was in my business suit, briefcase in hand and fit to drive to work. Pulling up at the gates and parking my car, I took a deep breath before getting out and locking it. I looked up at the bulky wing block as I crossed the courtyard. Right, this was it. Operation Naomi was back on. I just hoped there was still something to rescue.

Katie

This was turning into a fucking epic night, I thought. Just as Eff's E was starting to lose impact, I felt a hand pull mine to the side and stared into the eyes of some girl, who had been grinding against my arse to the thumping bass for the past ten minutes. Fuck knows what the music was, I didn't care. Four glasses of champagne, a floor full of off their head guys and girls and I was fucking **flying**.

"It's Katie, right?" she yelled into my face

"What?" I yelled back, the music was insanely loud

"She pointed at me and mouthed my name "Katie?"

"Yeah!" I shouted "I'm Katie Fucking Fitch, and I don't give a fuck!"

She laughed, her eyes looked like mine did, I'm sure. We were both off our heads on MDMA and champagne, and the night held promises for all womankind. We grinned at each other. She pointed to her own chest and shouted "Karen"

"Hi Karen" I said pulling her close so her head was next to mine "I think I might be a teeny bit fucked up"

She turned her head so her mouth was next to my ear

"Fancy something stronger?"

I pulled back so I could look at her properly. For most of our brief acquaintance, I had only felt her hands on my hips and her stomach grinding into my arse. Not the most formal of introductions. She was a bit taller than me, short dark hair and over made up eyes, bit Gothy for me, but I wasn't making very informed decisions by that time. Nice face, white teeth, small tits, skinny arse. Fuck it, who was I kidding. Effy fucking Stonem had changed me, that was obvious. Checking this girl out was proof of that, Karen grinned broadly at my blatant eye fucking and leaned close again.

"I have some ace powder in here" she cupped one of her small boobs in her hand and I felt a rush go through me.

"Nice" I said. "Do I get to hunt for it then?"

She laughed, throwing her head back attractively

"If that's your thing, girl, I could live with that" she said and suddenly I was a bit more sober than I thought I was. Did I really want a frantic toilet fuck with some random tonight?

She must have seen the doubt flash across my eyes because she grabbed my hand and pulled me close to her.

"Not in some crummy bog" she said "I know a place. This is a boat, right, with like, cabins and stuff?"

I nodded. Stupid, stupid me.

We were making our stumbling, giggling way across the lower deck, trying to avoid the drunken dancers around us and also making a valiant attempt to appear semi sober, when I caught Effy's eye. She was standing with White and one of his cronies, making a far better fist of appearing sober than I was. She stared at me as we crossed the floor, about ten feet from her. I saw her eyes widen as she must have recognised what sort of mission I was about to go on. A sharp shake of her head and a mouthed "No" was clear enough. I could blame the champagne, I could blame the residual buzz from the MDMA, I could blame her, for fuck sake. She had spent enough time lowering my already pitiful inhibitions. Either way I flipped her a clumsy finger, shrugged theatrically and carried on. The girl with me was holding my arm in a proprietary way, one that I would have instantly resented if I had been anywhere near sober. But I wasn't and I can't pretend that her small tit pressed against my arm wasn't sending signals to my libido that I enjoyed. Fucks sake, my lezzer sister would have been virtually drooling by now, I thought.

We passed through a set of heavy wood double doors, past the disinterested glance of a couple of goons and into a thickly carpeted passageway. Suddenly it was cooler, quieter and very different to the frantic mosh pit we had just left. A small part of my superheated brain whispered "Go back Katie" but I guess my sisters congenital stupidity when it comes to women was a part of my DNA too. I allowed her to lead me into what was obviously a luxury suite cabin. Once we were inside, she locked the door behind us

"We don't need an audience, do we Katiekins?" she grinned at me. That part of my brain which remained sensible, small that it was, whispered again

"_How the fuck does she know my nickname?_"

But when she dipped into her bra and bought out a small bag of white powder, I pushed the thought back into its place in sensible Katie's brain. Stupid Katie was in complete charge tonight.

She walked over to the dressing table by the bed and lifted the mirror at the back off, laying it on the top. The bag was opened and she carefully laid two thick lines across the glass,

""It's Cookie's special recipe" she whispered. "One line and the world turns into a fucking kaleidoscope...

How could I refuse that imagery? The girl, Karen, wasn't it, pulled out a £50 from her pocket and rolled it expertly. I was impressed, a fifty for fucks sake? She leaned forward and snorted one whole line in a single breath. Her head shot backwards as she stood up and I saw her chest rise rapidly as she took a deep and shuddering breath. Jesus. It Iooked like quality stuff. I took the note from her and followed suit. The rush was immediate and gob smacking. It smelt like whizz, all pissy and chemical bitter, but it felt like a shot of pure Charlie. My head just went boom. Like the 4th of July and Chinese New year all in one. My hands tingled, my breath caught in my throat and my nose felt like I had shot pure adrenalin up it. Holy Christ on a bike, it was strong. We clung together like shipwrecked sailors for a few seconds, allowing the teeth chattering rush to pass. Within seconds I was flying. Like literally flying. My head was now full of warm rushing sensation. My teeth clenched hard, just like a whizz buzz and suddenly my mouth was as dry as a bone. And my knickers were feeling rather unnecessary all of a sudden.

"Drink?" I croaked, seeing all the sensations I was experiencing go through Karen's face too. We stared at each other, stunned at the massive hit.

I saw her reach for a cabinet next to the bed, and followed her in a daze, my feet seeming to be unconnected to my brain. She brought out a bottle of Crystal, chilled from its time in the cooler compartment. Of course, I thought, only the best champers for Johnny Whites home bar. We sat on the edge of the king size bed, struggling to open the bottle. Finally it popped loudly and she put the open end in her mouth, white fizz spilling out onto her lap as the bubbles filled her mouth.

It seemed the funniest thing in the world to me, and I got the giggles. Soon we were both holding each other up, laughing at the expressions on our faces. We drunk from the bottle, the icy liquid going down my throat like water to a dying man. Jesus, it tasted fucking good. Every sense was suddenly into overdrive

Half way down the bottle she abruptly stopped laughing and put the bottle on the floor, looking at me with eyes that held drugged pupils

"You're very pretty, you know Katiekins" she said, slurring the words slightly

Again I wondered briefly how she knew that nickname, but before I could form the words in my mouth, she lunged forwards and, cupping my head in both her cool hands, kissed me hungrily on the mouth. It wasn't an Effy kiss, even in my fucked up state, I registered that, but it was nice. I've spent my life enduring beery, stubbly and usually far to aggressive snogging from men. I was kind of getting used to softer mouths now, and Karen was pretty, fragrant and, well, available, I guess. I leaned into her and returned her kiss..We settled into a sort of clumsy routine. She kissed me, I kissed her back, She dipped her tongue into my mouth, I teased it with mine. She reached down and unbuttoned my dress, I pulled her top over her head. You get the picture. Effy fucking Stonem bore some responsibility for this 180 degree shift in my sexuality, but don't get me wrong. I might have given Emily some severe shit over the years for her gayness, but I wasn't immune. No sir. I'd just pressed it down so far in my psyche that I had almost forgotten that it was actually me who first got it on with another girl, not my lezza sister Emily. School trip, sharing a cabin with a French girl who was totally blasé about who she shagged. Result, two nights of very pleasant mutual satisfaction. Then I put it out of my mind, came back to Bristol and pretended it had never happened. Classic Katie Fitch.

Anyway, the point is I was enjoying this make out session, and as my clothes fell onto the bed and Karen's fingers explored me, I wasn't exactly resisting hard. Far from it actually. When the last of her clothes hit the deck and we finally collapsed onto the soft bed, _I_ was the one kissing down _her_ body towards what I'm sure would be my merit badge in the Cunnilingus Club.

Then the door clicked. I heard it, but, having seen Karen lock it, it never occurred to me to look up. I kissed her nipples and then latched on to one hungrily, sucking it deep into my mouth. She groaned and held my head against her tight. Her other hand slipped round my body and held my shoulders too. There was suddenly movement behind me and I tried to lift my head to see what was happening. But she held me close to her naked skin, her legs joined her hands in circling me and suddenly it wasn't enjoyable any more. I struggled, but she shushed me impatiently.

"What's the matter Katie?" she said in a voice very far from the one I had heard up to now "you like to share, don't you?"

Although the MDMA concoction was still super heating my brain, mixed with the deadening effect of the champagne, I was suddenly aware that this wasn't a simple shag any more. I raised my head enough to see her eyes looking down on me. Then she looked over my shoulder. A coarse voice came from behind and above me.

"Such a pretty little arse, dinky tits. Shame to waste it"

Fucking Cook, I thought, fear racing through me.. I struggled harder against Karen's encircling limbs, but in my drugged and pissed state I wasn't getting anywhere. I felt the bed behind me dip and rough hands pulled my thighs open.

"Relax Katiekins" he said "Once I get 9" inside you, you'll be in fucking heaven babe"

I felt him start to push inside me and looked up desperately at Karen.

"Please Karen...don't let him..I don't want..._Please_?" I gasped as he pushed his over large cock right up inside me roughly. She just looked at me with glassy eyes. No help there, I realised. I stifled a sob as he began to hammer away at me. Part of me was screaming, but part of me knew that I could do nothing but fucking endure it. I lowered my head and zoned out.

It didn't end there of course. They _used_ me for ages, him and Karen. I was frozen in the end, the drugs finally numbing me to what was happening. Eventually I was pushed, trembling and exhausted out of the cabin door with my shoes and clothes in my hand, I don't know what time it was. The party was over, lots of Eastern European girls in white shirts cleaning up. The main room was a mess, bottles and half empty glasses everywhere. No one paid me much attention as I left, with my dress over my arm and bruises already starting to come up on my legs and arms. My hair was a sticky mess. Yeah, class act that Cook. Coming all over my face was his big finale. I had the awful taste of him in my mouth and I was raw and aching between my legs. I don't know how many times he went at me, but it was a lot. I saw him give Karen another bag of white powder before she left, so at least one of us came out in profit I guess. Fucking bitch.

I tried to flag down three cabs before one eventually stopped. I must have looked a state, so I can't really blame them. The guy dropped me off outside Effy's flat sometime before dawn. It was freezing, but I don't remember feeling cold, just numb.

She had given me a set of keys earlier in the week, so I let myself in the communal door, shutting it behind me and starting gradually to come apart. By the time I got to her floor, the sobs had begun and when I finally locked the door behind me I was in full flow. The flat was dark and silent. I put on the lounge light and walked into the bathroom. Effy's bedroom door was closed, and I really didn't want to walk in on her shagging some random, so I slipped off my shoes and padded past.

The bathroom light was way too bright, and the sight of myself, bruised, make up smeared across my face, hair sticky with Cooks final gesture was the last straw. I just lost it. I cried like a baby for the first time for years. I hugged myself with both arms and just stared at my reflection. The only word I could drag from my aching throat was the same one over and over "Bastard, bastard, bastard"

I don't know how long I stood there, looking stupidly at my battered face and body, but the first I knew I wasn't alone was when she spoke

"Oh, Katie" she said in a voice which didn't give any sign of surprise, just sadness

" I did warn you, sweetheart"

I turned and looked at her, tears still streaming down my mascara smeared cheeks

"He.. he..." I couldn't get the words to form in my mouth

"I know" she said "It's what he does. He's an animal"

"Please... Effy?" I said, pleading for I don't know what

"Come here" she said simply. I ran at her and gripped her body with my arms as if I would never let go. She just patted my back with one hand, stroking my matted hair with the other.

"Now you know how dangerous he really is babes" she whispered. I remember thinking that she must love me just a little. How else could she stand holding me like this, the stink of Cook's attack still on me and in me?

She ran a bubble bath for me while I stood shivering on the mat, not wanting to be anywhere but close to her. When it was full, and I had dropped my clothes onto the bathroom floor she took off her tee shirt and stepped in with me. She shampooed my hair and soaped me all over. Nothing remotely sexual about it .When I was clean, she helped me out, handed me a loaded toothbrush and watched me clean my mouth frantically until my gums bled. Then she dried me with one of the huge white fluffy towels she seemed to have an endless supply of. Finally, she wrapped me in her own dressing gown and led me into her bedroom. The bedroom where she had seduced and awakened me not very many days ago. She turned off the overhead light and when I was on my side, facing the window, my thumb in my mouth like I was five years old again, she spooned in behind me, wordlessly comforting me until my hopeless sobs subsided.

I could feel her stroking my hair gently as I drifted towards a troubled sleep. She only spoke once. Never one to waste words, my Effy

"It will never be OK baby. But it will get easier" she whispered "But I will send that bastard straight to hell, that's a promise"

For the first time since we left the flat and this awful night was ending, I did permit myself a small, sad smile

"And I love you Effy Stonem" I thought, just before sleep claimed me for good.

.

.

.

.

_Katie – five days later_

"_Come on babe, you know you love it"_

_I looked up at Jimmy Poole and grimaced at him. _

"_No, Jimmy, I don't feel like it" I said, not even believing myself_

"_Fucking hell Katie" he grumbled pushing at the back of me head "Just suck it for a little while...please?"_

"_Yeah right" I said "That's right up there with I won't come in your mouth for the worlds biggest lie"_

_He grinned that cheeky bad boy grin at me and I sighed in defeat. We had been here several times before, in the tree house in his back garden, ladder pulled up so we wouldn't be disturbed. Me with my top off and him with his 501's unbuttoned and his stiff cock in my hand. Good old Katie, she always delivers, right? I sighed again. _

"_Just fucking warn me this time OK. I haven't got any mints today" I said before I lowered my head. My tongue stretched out to touch him. I knew he wouldn't warn me, and he knew I knew, but I felt I had to say it. _

_Just before I touched his flesh with my mouth, I heard him speak again_

"_Thats a girl Katie, nice and wide for the Cookie Monster" His voice was suddenly coarse and ugly. I looked back up and instead of Jimmy Poole's face there instead was the bloated and sweaty face of Cook, my nemesis. _

"_Come on Katie" he grinned unpleasantly "Cookie needs the love, yeah?"_

_Panic rose in my chest and I flailed at him uselessly, feeling his hand pushing my mouth towards his improbable erection. I moaned out loud_

"_No Cook, please not again" _

_His throaty chuckle mocked me from above.."Suck it you fucking dyke"_

"_Effy" I said, desperate for this to end "Effy, help me"_

_Suddenly the sensation of being held faded and my eyes flickered between dark and light. I struggled again, feeling arms around me, but instead of hairy powerful arms, these were soft and feminine._

"_Katie, wake up, its just a dream babes"_

_I swallowed a sob, my eyes opening to see Effy leaning over me, holding my wrists as I struggled_

"_Just a dream hun. It's OK, I've got you"_

_She pulled me towards her fiercely and hugged me tight as I cried. This was the same dream I have been having every night since... it happened. And every time she has been there to dry my tears and comfort me._

_After I calmed down, Effy cupped my face in both hands and made me look into her eyes._

"_You **will** be OK Katie, I promise. I will always be with you through this"_

_She held my eyes with her own, and I nodded, sniffing back tears._

_She hugged me again, and I felt safe again, if only for a little while._

_As she hugged me I heard her mutter under her breath "But you won't be, Cookie you fat fuck, I promise that"_

**A/N**

**OK guys, troubled times for both the beautiful Fitch twins. Operation Naomi will hopefully heal the wounds she has borne so bravely for her Emily, and I _know_ Effy will honour both her promises to Katie. Or at least I hope so...Isn't Cook the absolute bastard? **

**Review please? You know how warm and helpless that makes me!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N**

**OK, so many thanks again for the reviews and support. I can guess that at least some of you read the last chapter through your fingers, and especially Cook lovers..Sorry about that. Every story needs a villain, and in this one he is certainly that!**

**So this chapter will develop the plot a bit, and there will be less jig a jig and more fluff. I think I deserve it, and so do you. Operation Naomi is under way, just hoping it works out for them. Oh yeah, I _know_ don't I? Ha ha.**

**Just a heads up to anyone who's interested. I am co writing a story with the wonderful _mysteriousbrunette_, who is an awesome author in her own right (should that be write?) and nails dialogue much better than I do. The story will be called Pleasure Island and the author name we will be using is, wait for it... _Fancyseeinglouhere_. Its an in joke guys, so don't ask! The story will contain lots of fun, sea, sand and, well, Emily and Naomi will be in it, so yeah, LOADS of smut! We are in the early stages of collaborating, so the first chapter will be up shortly. Stuff _has_ been written ha ha...And if you haven't read her stories yet, go away and do it now. I can wait..a little while at least. No, just do it. She isn't just a good writer, she's a lovely human being and all round nice person to know. Am I drooling? Yep, I've seen her picture too, so feel free to drool with me. Just don't mention Catwoman Converses...**

**Anyway...**

Naomi

Well fuck me with a well oiled cucumber, as Katie would say. Life has taken a definite turn for the better. Emily came in on Monday and the world suddenly took on a new, rose tinted glow. I was expecting a continuation of the uber professional Governor Fitch, keep your distance atmosphere we have been living in since my return to sunny Larkwood. But it couldn't have been more different. She smiled at me breezily as she walked to her office, and I think my jaw must have tried to emulate my previous attempt at a swan dive, crashing to the shiny floor. I stared at her a bit before continuing my demanding job of sweeping the doorway to the library. After she had disappeared into her office I almost convinced myself that I had dreamed it. Where were the nervous glances, the aloof attitude and the keep your distance body posture I had been getting for days?

About an hour later, I was in the library, sorting some new stock, when Glenda, Emily's tame screw and secretary popped her head in the door.

"Naomi" she said brightly "Can you pop into the Governors office in 5 minutes? She wants to go through some paperwork with you concerning the...'accident'"

I smiled grimly at her attempt to give a politicians gloss to my near demise

"OK Miss" I said, equally brightly, but with as much genuine humour as Jimmy Savilles biographer. "No problem"

She nodded quickly and disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.

When I knocked on Emily's door, Glenda opened it and ushered me inside, before leaving us alone. I looked over at the desk to see Emily looking right back at me. She looked stunning, of course, she doesn't have any other look, does she? She had a pale green suit on, buttoned high, but with a pretty silver pendant around her neck, The suit contrasted nicely with her smooth skin and red hair. God, she is beautiful, I thought. What on earth would someone as gorgeous as this want with a state like me? I was all too conscious of my loose grey trackies and blue sweat shirt. Since we had become more distant, I had stopped making an effort for her. Didn't seem much point, really.

"Sit down Naomi" she said shortly "I think we need to talk"

My heart joined my Converses on the floor as she looked at me. Oh shit, was this going to be the conversation I dreaded?

She lowered her voice and leaned over the desk, giving me an opportunity to ogle her tits, something I would usually be all too eager to take, but the knot in my stomach and the growing fear in my heart put paid to any over active fantasies I might have had.

"Don't worry" she said in a low voice "I just need to explain some things to you Naoms"

The use of my pet name gave me a flicker of hope, which my brain desperately tried to fan into life.

"I've been a complete cow, and I know it" she said, searching my eyes for something, I don't know what. "Things have been so fucked up, I don't know where to start"

"Have you cheated on me?" I blurted out, louder than I intended, and I saw her eyes widen at my words

"NO!" she said "I wouldn't do that Naomi. I _love_ you, you soppy cow"

"Not even with Tara?" I grated, my voice revealing my anxiety better than my words

"Especially not with Tara" she said levelly "In fact Tara told me to get my fucking act together and remind myself who I actually want to be with"

Part of me wanted to scream at her for even having that type of conversation with my rival, but the other half wanted to shout for joy at what she was saying. I did neither in the end, just waited for Emily to continue.

"She is, or rather _was_ a good listener, that's all"

I managed, by supreme effort to stop myself saying something bitter and hateful about good listeners and Emily's knickers, but it was hard, believe me...really hard. I think she saw the conflict in my eyes and rushed on

"That's all she will ever be to me you daft woman. I **love** you. I love you more than I can put into words, but I've been confused and upset, what with the accident, and my friend Zoe being killed while you were in hospital. I didn't know what to do about my feelings for you. My sister and your best friend are out there, putting themselves in danger to get you out of here, and all I seem to do is to make you miserable. Can you see how hard that is for me?"

I nodded slowly. Not really understanding at all, but trying.

"This is still going to be a difficult and probably long road for both of us..But you're not alone any more Naoms" she said, her voice catching in her throat. Which was way too unfair on me. Emily's standard husky voice was hard enough to resist. Emily on the verge of crying was fucking impossible to defend against. I felt tears welling up in my own eyes.

"I _will_ be there for you all the way. And so will your mum, Effy and Katie too. You have all of us to look out for you now. All you need to do is overcome a lifetime of distrust, suspicion and solitude. I mean, how hard can _that_ be?" Her eyebrow did that quizzical thing I loved...

She ended with a weak smile, and I had to laugh at her expression. How fucking hard indeed. I had spent years cultivating this fuck off attitude. It would take more than words to break the habits of a lifetime. But if she was prepared to stick with me, how could I refuse her? The girl of my dreams. Emily Fitch. Time to grow some, I told myself. Time to give my little redhead something back, apart from sarcasm and an over active tongue on the rare occasions I got to see her naked... I smiled at her nervously, and was rewarded with the biggest, happiest grin I ever need to see in my whole life. My heart resumed it's place in my chest and began to beat normally again. Well, as normally as it even would in the presence of my beautiful Emily.

"But there's one small problem Naoms" she looked down at her fingers on the desk, and my heart plummeted again. What now? For fucks sake this was worse that Thorpe Park for roller-coasters.

"You have to get a new girlfriend" She looked up at me through those Bambi lashes and I gulped back a surprised gasp. What the actual fuck?

"Err Ems" I said haltingly "For a minute there, I thought you said I had to get a new girlfriend/"

"That's right" she smirked, and I wondered what the fuck was going on in that oh so pretty head. "Her names Emma, and she's crazy about you, as of today"

My expression must have been priceless, because she just carried on looking at me for a second or two, that smirk still on her face.

"I thought we had cleared this up Emily" I said primly "I love you, you love me, no extras included? It's a little early in our relationship to be talking about threesomes, yeah?" Sarcasm was always my refuge in times of distress. Old habits die hard

Still the little smile, and to be honest, it was starting to annoy the hell out of me.

"What the fuck..." I started, but I guess she had milked the joke long enough, and raised a hand against my imminent explosion.

"She's called Emma, which means you can use the nickname Ems, OK?"

The puzzled look stayed on my face and she smiled at me as if I was educationally challenged.

"And she will be writing you letters, probably every day, and sending you stuff. Get the picture?"

Slowly the cogs of my institutionalised brain began to to turn and I saw what she was getting at.

"So..._you_ will be Emma?" I said deliberately

"At _last_, the Ice Queen's brain catches up on 3 years of lethargy" she giggled, and although my inner Campbell bridled at her piss taking, I was mostly relieved that I had actually understood at last.

"So how does this work then" I said stupidly, reverting to long term con mode.

She actually raised both eyebrows this time. I scowled in what I hoped was a warning about teasing the beast any further.

"Duh..." she chuckled "I write to you every day, telling you how wonderful it was to catch up with you, not to mention spending most of your parole fucking your brains out. You respond in kind. Two weeks of that, and the censor office will get tired of wanking to our pornographic exchanges and we can actually talk through the letters without raising entirely baseless rumours that you are shagging the wing governor"

"But won't the screws think its odd that I spent the day out screwing 'Emma' instead of mourning the passing of my dearly loved father" I said

"For fucks sake Naomi" she said quickly "Do you think for one moment that they bought that story of his imminent demise?"

"Most of the long term cons in here have had more deaths in the family than Hercule Poirot and Midsomer village put together. No one actually buys it. The only time I have turned down an application was when the dopey cow who put it in forgot that her paternal grandmother had 'died' three times in the past two years. It _was_ kind of hard to believe"

She laughed again quietly, and this time I joined her.

"So, we carry on as normal, but 'Emma' now becomes my love interest from now on?"

"No Naomi, we don't carry on as normal" she said, rising from her chair and walking round the desk towards me

"Two things will change. First, I will start to behave towards you the way I should have from the start" She cupped my head in her hands and kissed my lips tenderly and with gentle passion. "Like my actual girlfriend?"

"And secondly, you accept that I am never, **ever** going to leave you, cheat on you or ever, ever give up on you. Can you do that"

I swallowed hard and nodded, my head still in her cool hands. I fell into those dark brown eyes, and to be honest, I could have fucking happily drowned in them.

"I love you so much Ems" I finally managed, tears springing into my eyes as I spoke

"I know" she said "I know"

**Effy**

I know everyone thinks I am like a fucking Sphinx... Impassive and immovable, impossible to know or understand, and with the emotional range of a door stop, but what do they know? Suddenly, after years of cultivating this fuck off exterior, some girl comes along and changes everything, and I mean everything, overnight. Katie Fucking Fitch, who would have thought it?

I just didn't know what to do with myself after Cook raped her. I mean I know what I wanted to do. Find him, torture him, kill him. Easy yeah? But it wouldn't either be possible, or solve our little 'Naomi problem'. So I just had to suck it up, comfort the lovely Katie as well as I could and consume about a distillery's worth of JD to dull the ache.

The worst of it was, that night I had almost got to what I wanted to. White's journal. Every dodgy deal, every drugs shipment, every bent copper, magistrate, judge, journalist and government official was in it. Everything that Johnny White cares about is in that book .Leather bound, about 8" square and usually hidden inside his 'secret' compartment behind the headboard of that bed. Yep, that bed. The one that Katie spent a couple of hours being raped by Cook on. My plans for the evening had been scuppered by her stupid idea to get wasted and then laid by Karen. I knew all about Karen McClair. I had fucked her enough times to get inside that mercenary, gold digging, drug addicted head. All she cared about was getting laid, getting high and getting rich. Stupid bitch had no idea that before she ever got enough of the money, her body would be so used and wasted by Cooks drugs and the multitude of cocks she ingested that she would be discarded like an empty milk carton in some alleyway behind a club once she had served her purpose.

The plan for the night was to have got Cook and Karen into White's cabin, fuck them unconscious and then use the combination I had spent weeks memorising while on my hands and knees on Whites bed, being fucked by his pencil dick, to get the one thing knew would bring the whole rotten enterprise to its knees. He liked to boast, see, White. All my fake sighs and moans had persuaded him he was the best cocksman in the SouthWest. Some fucking chance. But Katie, bless her little libidinous heart, had put paid to that with one stupid and naive decision. I blame myself totally of course. I should have known that Cook wouldn't take her earlier rejection too well. Too many years being told by one random plastic bimbo or another what a stud he was, had twisted his already overinflated ego into a monster he was barely in control of these days.

I don't know what had happened to the James Cook I knew in college, but this bloated, drug ravaged parody certainly wasn't it. Actually, that's completely wrong, I know exactly what had happened to him. Johnny White. Years of pandering to his deviant desires and all consuming greed had made Cook what he was now. It was White who gave him the means and the opportunity to indulge every want he could ever have. White who gave him the industrial quantities of drugs. White who paid for every 18 year old wannabe who would fuck anyone and anything to get into the inner circle. White who enforced every decision Cook made. White who turned every sad and vicious act into normality. I hated him with every fibre of my being, but he was untouchable without that journal. I had to get it. But how?

The past few days have been a little better. Katie's physical injuries were getting less painful, well, at least she hadn't been hurt internally. Her bruises were fading and that shocked vacant look in her eyes had been replaced by a sort of wary resignation. She was tough, my little Katie. Not as tough as she liked to make out, but tough enough to file this episode under the 'mistakes never to be made again' section of her mental filing cabinet. But emotionally, I knew it would take more than rest and talking to put it behind her. We haven't made love since, but I know she still has feelings for me. She cries still, at night, when she thinks I am asleep. Little sobs and hopeless sighs. I pretend I'm still dozing and 'accidentally' throw my arm over her as if I'm just adjusting my position behind her. When she is safely in my arms and I'm spooning her with my body, the shaking stops and she relaxes. When her breathing slows and becomes regular, I sleep myself. We don't speak of it in the morning, but I think she knows.

In fact I think she knows a whole lot more than I would ever admit to her face. The little sexual diversion I had planned with this Fitch sister has turned into something I never thought I would experience. I care about her. I mean really care. Not just fuck her senseless for a few nights, get my itch scratched and then move onto another target. No, it's turned into something rather fucking wonderful. We talk, we laugh, we tease each other and we are starting to do real couply things together. Like have lunch every day on the window terrace, poking fun at the losers that parade round Victoria Square. Or go shopping in town together for the seemingly endless leopard print she craves. Things I never thought Effy Stonem would _ever_ do. Bonding with anyone was never the plan, but being part of a couple with Katie Fitch, hitherto self proclaimed straightest girl in Bristol, was definitely off the radar...

I catch her watching me quietly sometimes. I suppose she's looking for the return of Queen Bitch. Can't blame her. I seduced her, got her into this whole thing, and I think she is expecting me to revert to type at some stage. But it's not going to happen. At least I don't think so. Can't things ever be complicated?

So tonight I start my plan 'Operation Normal' She is visiting her sister this afternoon, and so I've ordered a take away, Chinese, as it's her favourite. Two bottles of chilled Chablis are in the fridge and a couple of industrial strength spliffs are tucked in their usual place, inside my bra. I'm going to get her fed, get her pleasantly drunk and stoned. Then I'm going to get her into bed with me. Nothing exotic, no strap ons, silk scarves or mirrors tonight. Just a naked Katie Fitch and a naked Elizabeth Stonem, a big bed and all night to explore. I have to exorcise the demons that are still haunting her. She has to realise that making love with me is not going to be an echo of that horrific experience on White's boat. It's something beautiful, something wonderful and something worthwhile. At least that's the plan.

Katie

When I got back to the flat, Effy was in a funny mood. Funnier than usual that is. We've been virtually living together since...it... happened, and I've grown fonder of her than I thought was possible. I know I should be angry with her for getting me into this shit in the first place, and the 'old' Katie Fitch certainly would have been. But she has been the one thing I can rely on these days. My mum would have locked me in my old bedroom and called the police if I had told her what had happened. My dad would have got himself killed trying to murder Cook, and my dippy sister would have just cried a lot and blamed herself, or worse Naomi. She's so loved up nowadays that its frankly sickening. Apparently, she had the incredibly crass idea to invent some girl called Emma for Naomi to pen friend. I'd fucking hate to be a censor in that prison. I can just imagine how graphic those lezzer letters are. Pass the sick bucket.

Anyway. Physically I am fine now. My face doesn't look like a technicolor impressionist painting any more, and I can walk without wincing again. But obviously I am still a bit shaky. Not that I would let anyone know that of course. I have a reputation to keep. But Effy knows. That fucking all knowing smirk I catch on occasions tells me that she can still see into my mind, which is a bit unsettling, I can tell you.

The doorbell still makes me jump, so Effy answered it. The smell gave it away before she came in holding a frankly ridiculously oversized take away bag. Chinese. My favourite, and she knows it. I changed into a pair of shorts and an oversized tee, which if anyone knows me is a complete character change. I wouldn't be seen dead in some of the stuff my lezzer sister wears indoors. But being here, with Effy, has done strange things to my dress sense. Please God it stops before I end up going out in a see through chiffon tutu and a pair of Catwoman Converses. So fucking gay, that!

Sitting on the overstuffed couch, eating prawn crackers and drinking ice cold Chablis, I rested my head on her shoulder and smiled at her endless stream of funny anecdotes. That's something else not many people know about Elizabeth Stonem. She's actually really funny, once she drops the ice queen exterior. After choking for the fourth time on my food, I dug her in the ribs and made her stop until I'd at least finished my plate. All these calories will have to be burnt off at some stage, but maybe not tonight.

Two more glasses of wine and my head began to feel a bit light. I was sitting with my legs across hers, laying back on the cushions, when she stopped talking and just looked at me.

"I think it's time, Katie" she said in a strange quiet voice

"Time for what?" I said, knowing exactly what she meant. The small knot in my stomach grew into a boulder, and I felt a bit panicky.

"Time for you to realise that sex is something to be enjoyed again" she whispered

I gulped noisily and just stared at her as she got up from the couch and stood in front of me. She held out a slim hand and my own hand betrayed me by reaching up to allow her to pull me to my feet.

"I'm not sure...I mean, I don't know if I can..." I said slowly.

"You _can_ Katie" she said, and pulled me so close our bodies were touching from thigh to shoulder. "This is something special, and I won't lose it because..." she didn't need to end the sentence, I knew what she meant.

I let her lead me into the bedroom and sit me on the mattress. Whilst I watched, she pulled off her own tee shirt and dropped her girl shorts to the floor. I blinked at her as she stood in the glow of the bedside lamp. Naked apart from a tiny pair of blue lace knickers, she looked as beautiful as I had ever seen her, and that's saying something.

"Say something" she smiled, and suddenly my mouth was dry and uncooperative.

"You're beautiful" I finally managed, unable to resist running my eyes over her small breasts and hardening nipples. Jesus, when did I become a tit woman? Easy answer, when Effy Stonem rocked my world.

She slid her underwear down slowly and when she straightened up I almost gasped in surprise. She had shaved down there, and now was as smooth as a schoolgirl. I felt myself licking my lips and cursed mentally my total fucking inability to look at her naked without a hundred lurid sexual images tumbling through my mind in quick succession.

"Now we match" she smirked, and I almost giggled out loud at the ridiculousness of what she was saying. Matching fannies, yet. All I needed was a subscription to Diva and a Lip Service box set and I would be a fully paid up rug muncher. Why was it that I didn't feel that was the worst thing which could happen to me. Oh yeah, being serially raped by Cook, that was worse. The thought briefly dropped a bucket of cold water over me, but she must have used her superpowers to read my mind, yet again.

"This is _US_, Katie" she said firmly "No one else"

She sat beside me and pulled at the hem of my tee. I raised my arms and let her take it off me. She took a long look at my boobs, and I couldn't help a small smirk at her endless fascination with my tits. She wasn't the first, or even the hundred and first to admire them, but she definitely was the most appreciative. She knelt by the bed and slipped off my shorts and knickers, until I was as naked as she was.

She slipped an arm round me as we sat side by side and tipped my head so that her lips were inches from mine. I could smell sweet and sour sauce and alcohol, but strangely, it wasn't a turn off. Her eyes held mine as her lips brushed my own slowly. I felt the knot in my stomach loosen as her lips caressed mine. She was so fucking soft. The kiss deepened, and I let her push me back until we were laying on the soft bed. Her hand cupped my face as she kissed me and I allowed her tongue to gently enter my mouth. So different from the thousands of kisses I had had with guys. No stubble, no hard pressure, no wandering hands, just kiss after kiss, tongue slipping lovingly over mine until I felt myself responding in kind. Soon enough, our arms were gripping each other, and our mutual moans were echoing in the bedroom.

When she slid a cool hand over my breast, I momentarily froze, remembering the last person who had done that. But this hand was soft and gentle, and the thumb which was circling my excited nipple was considerate and sensitive, not rough and demanding. I opened my eyes to see her looking at me intently. I knew what she was thinking. Was it now I bolted for the door, or would I let her go on?

She carried on caressing my breasts slowly and I pulled her head to mine again, until my mouth was by her ear.

"It's OK, Effy" I whispered "It's OK, really"

I felt her face twitch next to mine, and knew that she was smiling

"It's more than OK Katie" she said "It's love"

I felt a thrill go through my body like I had never felt before. She loved me?

The next kiss was hungrier, more searching, and I used my own hands to cup and knead her breasts. Her nipples were stiff, and I used my fingertips to pull on them hard, the way I knew she liked the most. This time I heard _her_ moan helplessly and felt a surge of pride at the fact that I could make Effy Stonem lose it.

We kissed until we had to break for oxygen, staring at each other in wonder at how incredibly arousing this was. I moved first, sliding a knee between her thighs and feeling the wetness and heat between them. She groaned then and started to roll her hips against my leg, the friction building her arousal. I felt her hand part my legs, allowing her cool fingers to touch me...there.

I jumped as if I had been plugged into the mains. I hadn't even touched myself since...it...happened, so this was something I instinctively knew I needed badly. Her knowing caresses and thrusts soon made me as wet as she was and I moaned into her mouth, feeling the tension mount as we both climbed our personal mountains.

It wasn't enough for me though, and before I could lose all control, I pushed her hands away from me. I saw her face fall as she looked into my eyes, both of us panting from the sheer delirium racing through our bodies.

"I'm sorry" she said, still breathing hard "Too soon?"

I smiled sadly at her misunderstanding and shook my head

"Not too soon babe" I breathed "I just need to..." and lowered my eyes to her open legs. I felt almost light headed when she grinned cheekily at my open perving

"It's all yours Katiekins" she laughed "Only yours, and always yours"

She laid back on the bed and opened her thighs wide. I licked my lips at the sight of her. As I did, she reached up with both hands and cupped her own boobs, thumbs already circling hard nipples

"Jesus" I said "I want you so much Effy"

"Don't talk, Do" she said, closing her eyes and breathing faster as I slid between her legs. Her thighs twitched as I slid gentle fingernails up and down them, prolonging the anticipation. As my face got closer to her wetness, I breathed on her, and saw the muscles in her stomach ripple as she tried to stay still under my teasing.

"Fuck Katie" she gasped "No more tormenting. Just lick me"

"Oh yeah" I said, which were the last words I spoke for several minutes. My tongue and lips spoke for me, very eloquently. And my fingers too for that matter. One, two and finally three, just how she liked it. Slow thrusts, gentle circles, hums and lapping. She came so hard, I think she may have passed out for a few seconds. My head hurt from the hair pulling and my lips were bruised from the bucking of her hips against my mouth when she orgasmed. It was intense, uncontrollable and loud. Just how I liked to see Effy come.

Obviously she had to return the favour, and it was surprisingly easy to relax, let her play me and finally take me over the edge with her fingers. All the time she looked into my eyes, watching me enjoy her loving. As I climaxed hard and long, she rode it with me, her hot eyes holding mine. Making sure I knew it was her doing this to me, with me, for me. Afterwards, I cried a little, maybe relief, maybe just pure emotion. All I do know is that she cleansed me that night. I was whole again. Katie Fitch, back in the game.

We slept entwined together properly for the first time in days. I woke in the night, watched her sleep for a few seconds, then slid down the bed and woke her in the best possible way. By the time she was fully awake, her hips were already rolling and her thighs were pressing against my ears. This time, when she came, I didn't stop, but carried on licking and slowly sliding my wet fingers in and out of her. A few minutes later, I made her come again. I moved up her body and kissed her gently as she relaxed. The taste of her in both our mouths as we twisted our tongues together.

Sleep overcame both of us, and it was mid morning before we woke again, still clutching each other, like shipwrecked survivors. Which is pretty accurate really. She had saved me, and I think I may just have saved her, in my own little way.

Emily

I know I shouldn't get excited about writing or receiving letters at my age, but I found myself hurrying when I got home most nights, almost running up the stairs to my apartment. Once I was inside, the sight of an off white prison envelope on my mat made my heart race every time. I may have only just left Naomi, maybe after a stolen kiss in the library, or an occasional brush of fingers when we passed each other, but still this idea of her writing out her feelings was working even better than I thought it would. She seemed to become a different, much more open person when she had the time to put her words down on paper. More loving, and much more...err adventurous. I know the censors office are used to women pouring their hearts out to their partners, and I have seen some of the more lurid fantasies they share too, but Naomi was fair setting the paper alight these days. She always started and finished the letters beautifully. Clever, well thought out phrases and sentences filled the lined paper, which never failed to lift my heart and fill my eyes with tears. But in between, she could be quite...graphic...about what she wanted to do to me in and out of bed.

My eyes may have filled with tears, but not sad ones, ones that were usually generated by extreme exertion. Exertion of the horizontal kind. God that woman had an imagination which could set fire to asbestos. The things she wanted to do, and make me do to her were usually just about physically possible, but only if I were a contortionist with a sex drive to match a Bonobo. I was very much looking forward to our next self engineered days parole, to see if she could match thoughts with deeds!

On another subject, I could see that Katie was very happy nowadays, which always made me happy too. Her and Effy were joined at the hip most days, and my gaydar is either completely out of sync or broken, because I swear that they are much more than close friends. My sister, joining the rainbow club? I can't believe it. Last time I had them round for dinner, I am positive when I looked out of the window I saw Katie hold hands with Effy before they buzzed up to be let in. Now Katie wasn't even a fan of holding hands with guys, so to see her walking hand in hand with Effy, looking for all as if they were the worlds tightest couple is frankly mind boggling. I asked of course, and got a complete fuck off blank from my sister. However, I was watching Effy's eyes as I did, and even the ice queen herself couldn't quite hide the flicker of sadness when Katie said she wasn't 'fucking **gay**, lezzer' So, something to dig a bit more on then.

But I suppose, being completely loved up myself, I wasn't really concentrating too much on the possibility of my hetero sister joining the rug munchers club courtesy of Elizabeth Stonem's sponsorship. I had enough trouble processing the knowledge that Naomi and Effy had been occasional lovers in the past to want to open that can of worms too wide. I knew how 'persuasive' Effy could be from personal experience, so thoughts of my lover and her in naked clinches were definitely off the Fitch imagination horizon.

This evening was no different to start with, than any other this past week. There was an envelope, and I forced myself to leave it unopened until I had showered, changed into my favourite pink fluffy dressing gown and uncorked a bottle of cold Cava. Filling a large glass, I settled down on the couch to read Naomi's latest billet doux. Two swallows into the Cava and I was engrossed all over again. She started by telling me she loved me, several times. I grinned dopily at that. It never got old for me, this feeling that I was wanted by the person who I loved more than anyone in the world. Then she told me again, only more graphically, and with a certain artistic flair which sent its own warmth several inches below where the wine was doing it's job. I got to the part where she was describing my naked body, silk scarves and her wicked tongue and suddenly it was too warm everywhere. My dressing gown was far too restrictive, and I opened it, pulling the belt away, so the cool air played over my skin. I knew where this was leading, which of course was exactly what had been planned by the author of my own personal 50 shades of grey...

Settling back on the cushions, I began making lazy circles on my stomach and breasts with my open hands. I wanted to make this last. I read another few lines and carefully put the letter on the floor next to the couch. There were another 3 pages, and who knew if I would need a 'fix' later?

Slow caresses turned to inquisitive fingers. My mind played loops of erotic couplings involving Naomi and a rather lifelike oversized battery powered friend I had in my bedside cabinet, and I briefly considered getting up and retrieving it before deciding that I was pretty close already, and there was always later. Just as things were getting to the stage where I was about to ask God for his assistance the lounge door burst open and my sister and Effy fucking Stonem lurched in, obviously the worst for wear and clutching a bottle of wine in each hand.

The world stopped for several seconds. My sister stood open mouthed and horrified before turning abruptly on her heel and running into the kitchen shouting "For fucks sake Emily!" quite loudly. Effy Stonem took her time following her. She raked me from head to naked toe before sniggering

"Delicious, Emily. I knew you had hidden depths"

I had tried, very unsuccessfully to cover up, but only succeeded in tangling myself in the dressing gown, Several large areas of flesh hitherto only revealed to Naomi's eyes were still in full view.

"Fuck off Eff!" I said forcefully, trying harder to cover the bits of me she was still blatantly perving over.

"We'll get some glasses then, while you...err recover your dignity" she laughed and followed my still loudly complaining sister into the kitchen.

Five minutes later we were sitting facing each other, fully covered up in my case, in the lounge, ignoring the elephant in the room, 'Masturbation', I think it's name is...

"Scarred for life. Fucking scarred for life" my sister intoned, looking at her glass of wine as if it was full of diamonds. "My twatting sister getting off to no doubt disgusting visions of that blonde lezzer. Scarred for FUCKING life!"

"Get over yourself Katie" I said bitingly. "This is the sister who made me endure years of Wednesday and Sunday night self pleasure events, whether I was asleep or not, remember?"

I give her due, she at least had the self awareness to blush. Those unwilling nights of audible torture were burned into my memory banks. Katie was what you call an early developer, and discovering the pleasure associated with self abuse was irresistible to her early teenage self. The fact that her twin sister was forced to hear the horrible evidence had escaped her...Until now.

Effy smirked at her new friend and opened her mouth to speak, but Katie beat her to it

"Don't even think about commenting on THAT Stonem" she hissed

Effy laughed out loud then, something I had never actually heard her do before.

"OK Katie" she smiled "My lips are sealed" but she spoiled it with a raised eyebrow that made us all laugh out loud.

"Fuck it" Katie said forcefully. "I want this out of the way now"

I raised my eyebrow then and looked at my sister quizzically

Katie sighed deep and long and then straightened up in her seat, looking me directly in the eyes as she spoke.

"You've probably guessed it already, what with your fucking lezzer gaydar and all, but Effy and are more than just...friends" She stared at me, challenging me to mock her.

I looked again at Effy, who was regarding us both with a calculated smile on her face.

"More than friends?"` I said, not wanting to make this too easy for her. She had given me enough shit over the years over my sexual orientation, I had lots of sarcasm to catch up on. "You mean, you've _kissed_ and stuff?"

I could see two expressions across from me. One was serene and unconcerned, the other was dark and explosive. No prizes for guessing which belonged to whom.

"Fuck off Emily" my twin barked "You know what I mean"

Too good to resist, I thought, worth prodding the angry bear one more time at least.

"You don't mean heavy petting too, Katie? I'm shocked. You could get a girl pregnant like that"

The explosion, when it came was epic. A true Katie Fitch tour de force.

"You BITCH" she screamed "What do you want, a blow by blow account of muff munching, you fucking lezzer twat"

I give her ten out of ten for lack of self awareness on that point. I certainly didn't need pointers on muff munching, Naomi and I were quite the experts in that field by now. And I don't think screaming at your lesbian twin sister about her sexuality really cuts it when you're sitting with your female lover, does it?

Effy coughed out a laugh at that statement, and Katie must have realised how ridiculous she was being because that was the extent of her volcanic temper for tonight.

"OK" she said quietly "I love her, right"

Now that WAS a show stopper, and I sat there with look on my face like a shop window mannequin. Blank and uncomprehending.

"You..._love_ her?" I said stupidly, for want of anything else to add to the conversation.

Katie looked up at me, suddenly direct and almost pleading for understanding.

"Yeah. I love her. Deal with it"

"And you?"` I said, finally dragging my eyes away from my sisters gaze to look at Effy

"Me too" she said simply and reached over, covering my sisters hand with hers. Dare I say it, they looked fucking cute.

"Well that calls for a drink, yeah?" I laughed, raising my glass to them both. After a second or two's hesitation, two more half full glasses chinked against mine. I have no idea what we were toasting, but it just felt right. Effy, of course, had the right words.

"All lezzers together then" she chuckled

I saw Katie wince at that, and filed away the thought that she would take a while to get used to THAT particular label, but she drank to it anyway. Sisters, huh?

**A/N**

**OK guys, that's all for now. I promise that the next chapter, apart from being long and involved, will feature actual plot action. I just thought our heroines needed some well deserved R and R. Poor Emily, interrupted self abuse is SO frustrating, huh? As if I know that...**

**Next chapter under way. Sorry about the delay. Christmas and all that. Guest performances from Cook, Johnny White and a certain Congolese French speaking guy who may or may not turn out to be as good a guy as he was in S3. (Don't know what the fuck happened to him in S4) What are you liking (if anything) about the Keffyness of this story? I wasn't certain that there would be any when I started, but it seemed to evolve. Glad that I avoided any Kemily? I am!**

**Although there may or may not be a flashback to a certain blue eyed blonde and Effy in the next chapter. They have history you know, and it always comes out, no?**

**Answers on a postcard, or preferably via that little button down there... you know the one that says review? Almost as much fun for me as that other little button that enjoys stimulation of a different kind. Ha ha ha**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hi**

**For anyone expecting an update to the story, firstly my apologies. If you've read my updated profile for my sister, you will know she is no longer with us. Something that hurts just as much today as it did on 25th March, when we lost her to viral meningitis. **

**However, she left me something which I never to be honest, thought I would be able to deal with, let alone pick up and develop for her. When she lost her fight, she had already made lots of notes, half finished paragraphs and ideas in a folder which has been given to me. Lots of private stuff, photo's and stupid mementos, but amongst that, a whole sheaf of material on her story about Naomi and Emily in prison etc. It's been kinda hard, as I'm sure you will know, for me to come to terms with her death, let alone start going through her private things, but two months on, and knowing my sister as well as I did, I sort of know she would want me to at least attempt what I'm about to do.**

**Which is - to finish the story for her. I am a crap writer, unlike Nancy, but there is enough of her in this stuff for me to piece it together so you guys get some closure on the story. It will sort of help me too, because having read her stuff (and blushed at the graphic sex...God she did love to get those two naked!) I want to make it the finished article. And to make matters worse (Oh, and starting a sentence with AND would have made her snort) I have even inherited her love of all things Naomily. I must confess that 2nd Generation Skins passed me by mostly, because I really only started watching Skins last year, and Nancy assured me that Gen 3 was a pile of crap and I had missed the boat already. But I am 16 now, and having watched all the DVD box sets she collected, I have to agree. OK, I'm gay too, so watching Naomi and Emily lock lips wasn't the MOST unpleasant thing I've ever seen ha ha! But I've decided to do two things.**

**One, to finish this story for her, probably in two chapters, because the plots laid out for me to write. Two, to write some stuff of my own to kind of honour her memory. You guys knew her from this site, but I had the delight (OK sometimes she could be a PITA!) of knowing her for all my life. She was so funny, witty and sharp, she made me breathless with laughter. She was kind, loving and really, really brave. I knew she was gay from the time I was 12, but it never bothered me. And she never let it. I envied her ease in getting stunning girls to fawn over her, and some of the noises coming from her room when she thought I was out and was 'entertaining' would have made a sailor blush! OK, its getting a bit personal now, so I'll just end by saying a PROPER update to her story will appear sometime next week. I hope you like it and see it for what it is – a tribute to my funny, beautiful and talented sister Nancy.**

**Lizzie**

**Oh, and my stories will appear under the author name mynameislizzie – and yes, its a straight steal from Nancy, but so what ;) !**


	23. Chapter 23

**OK**

**SO here is the first chapter of the final part of Written in the Stars. Its complied from notes and random scribbling that my sister left me to use. It may be crap, because I am writing it, but please be kind, it was her baby, and I promised I would finish it for her. It will be in two parts, this one and the second, which will explain the first (if that makes any sense whatsoever!). I hope you like it.**

Kuala Lumpur

The end, when it comes, is very quick. Armed, uniformed guards line the narrow corridor, and a priest stands silently, waiting to perform his grisly ritual. The sound of keys and muted commands echo down the hall, and at once, the two unblinking, impassive guards outside each cell stiffen in anticipation of the arrival of senior officials. A faint sobbing is heard from one of the cells, but no one in the corridor shows any signs of emotion. The footsteps, faint at first, echo thinly in the hot oppressive air. No windows are open, and the air conditioning is struggling to cope with the sudden increase in the population of this cement block.

Inside a minute, the place is all activity. The small crocodile of officials, silent and emotionless, pauses outside one of the cells. A sharp command, and the two guards positioned outside march in and there is rustling and the sound of leather and metal clips. In ten seconds, they emerge from the firs room, between them is a thin man in his 30's with a fair wispy beard, blue eyes wide and afraid, but mouth set in a grim determined line.

Another command,and the second two guards carry out the same task. This time there are weak protests from the prisoner, and sobbing. No matter, fifteen seconds later, the trio emerge as the others did. The prisoners hands are tied behind their backs with thick bands of leather, fastened with sturdy metal belt clips. Their feet, already manacled with cuffs and two feet of tungsten chain, rattle slightly as they stumble between their captors.

Another staccato burst of Malay, and the crocodile begins to retrace its steps down the hallway. The second prisoner is still sobbing, and the words "No" and "Please ...stop" are heard through the tears and choking sounds. This captive is a bigger man than the other, grown fat with inactivity and pale from lack of sunlight. The officials ignore his increasingly frantic pleas, and propel him steadily towards a set of double doors, half way along the corridor

As they reach the doors, the bigger man catches sight of what is inside and begins to wail in a thin desperate voice.

"N...no. Please, this is wrong. Tell them Johnny, tell them this is a mistake. They can't... they _can't_"

The other man regards his companion with thinly veiled contempt and growls at him.

"Be a fucking _man_, Cook, for once in your life. Don't let these slant eyed fucks have the satisfaction of seeing you break"

He turns his head away as the other man continues to plead, snot running down his nose as he loses all control. His voice is the only sound in the entire block until the head of the prison fixes both men with a icy glare and recites something from a thick piece of paper with an official stamp on the top. It takes a minute or two and neither prisoner acknowledge what is to them, an unintelligible stream of Malay.

Finished, in a brisk way, he folds the paper and returns it to his pocket. The small, suited man then steps back and another two men step forward. Both in black one piece uniforms, with identikit faces, jet black hair and impassive oriental features. They issue a terse order together, and the four guards holding the arms of the prisoners urge them forward into the room. A plain room, painted institutional green. No window in the high walls, just a thick rolled steel joist across the ceiling about ten feet up, hanging from which are two thick hemp ropes, with a thin leather covering surrounding the nooses below.

Again the bigger man begins to plead, but he is ignored as before. They are placed on the trap door below the ropes, and the priest steps forward.

"Do you wish to make confession?" he says quietly, but the smaller man just regards him with an amused stare and doesn't answer. Realising he is wasting his time, the priest steps towards the other, younger man. He repeats his question.

"Do you wish to make confession, or say anything, my son?" he says kindly.

The younger man gulps down some spit and starts to talk really quickly.

"Stop them doing this Father" he pleads "It's a mistake. We were set up by that _bitches_ brother Tony. I only came over here to help Johnny. I don't want to die, please...please help me!"

The priest shakes his head slowly at the pointlessness of carrying on with his ministry and steps away, murmuring the last rites, despite the ignorance of his charges.

Another quick fire burst of Malay and most of the people crowding the doorway are cleared away. The doors clang shut and the prisoners stand on the trap door silently. There is just enough room for them and the two narrow planks which bestride the closed trap. Their reason for being there will soon become apparent.

The two men in black step forward again and slip thin white hoods and then the nooses over the men's heads, tightening them under the left sides of their jaws and ignoring their frantic breathing. They step back and nod briefly to the senior official. He takes one last look around the room and raises one eyebrow to the priest, who stops his murmuring and crosses himself.

"May God have mercy on your poor souls" he says sadly and turns his head away from them as they stand alive for the last time on this earth.

There is brief silence as even the terrified Cook stops crying. Everyone in the room now knows that the time for pleas and hope are over for ever.

There is a quick glance at the clock from the two men in black, and as it clicks onto 9 am, then they spring forward as one. A pin is removed from the levers at each end of the scaffold, and the men place themselves on the cross planks. They pull in unison and the doors to the trap spring open, hitting the sides of the hole with a crashing thump. Instantly the prisoners are propelled downwards, the rope above them straightening with an audible crack as the rope reaches its limit. The rope quivers for a second or two, creaking gently at the load, but no other sound is heard until the warden nods in satisfaction and turns to his assistant and gives him a tight smile.

The only other man in the room, apart from the participants steps forward and shakes the wardens hand.

"Nasty business, sir" he says in an educated English voice "I will inform their families, of course. But thank you for being so... efficient with this" he waves his hand at the slowly spinning ropes "Unfortunate necessity. But drug traffickers know what's at stake here, don't they?"

He is answered with a curt nod and small bow, which he returns. The British Vice Consul then leaves quickly, as the double doors are opened and the dead men are left to hang for the next hour. A ritual totally unnecessary, given the efficiency of the hangmen, but still observed since Colonial days.

In just under an hour, the two prisoners families are advised that the sentence of the court has been carried out, and that these two English drug traffickers will be going home in coffins to them.

Back in Bristol...

Effy puts the phone down and turns to Katie, who is staring wide eyed at her girlfriend. She nods at her and then comes over to give her a hug of comfort.

"They're gone Katie" she whispers in her ear "You need to speak to Emily now. Cooks confession is with the Consul, and the Home Office will be receiving a copy of it by email this afternoon. She needs to talk to Naomi"

"It's really over Eff?" Katie says in wonder "Naomi can come home to Emily, and we can start our lives over again?"

"Yeah" Effy nods, pulling back to look at her girlfriend "The nightmare is really over, for all of us. I'd better give Tony a call to thank him. Coffee?"

Katie smiles and squeezes Effy hand before leaving the other girl and walking quickly into the kitchen. She sighed as the kettle boiled. It was over...finally.

She picked up her mobile as she waited for the kettle, thumbing a text rapidly

"_Ems_" it said "_Effy says it's done. Naomi's brief needs to contact the Home Office_ _right away. Looks like its lezzers at large all round, bitch!_"

A few miles away, Emily Fitch frowned as her mobile buzzed its warning. She had just finished her rounds, and was hoping to get a coffee before the next meeting. She pulled it from her suit pocket and opened the text. After she had read it, she allowed her face to break into the biggest happiest smile she had given herself for months and turned back from her door. Walking quickly along to the library, she opened the door and regarded her secret girlfriend fondly as she reached up to put some books back on the top shelf.

"Be with you in a minute" Naomi said in a cheerful voice

"You'll be with me a lot longer than that babe" Emily said, causing an instant start and the descent of the reluctant fat volume down onto Naomi's toe

"Jesus Ems" she spat "What the actual fuck...that hurt?"

"You're going home baby" Emily laughed, unable to keep her good mood inside a second longer "Cook's confession is on its way to the Home Office and you'll need a private phone call to your solicitor. I have a feeling life is going to get a whole lot more interesting over the next day or so"

Naomi forgot her throbbing toe and enveloped her Wing Governor in a suffocating hug.

"Really?" She smiled "They're really gonna let me go home?"

"Home to me, honey" Emily laughed "We have a lot of time to make up for"

Naomi smirked at the obvious intent of _that_ sentence and cheekily squeezed Emily's bottom with both hands

"I don't know what you mean Miss" she dead panned "You wouldn't take advantage of one of your inmates, would you?"

"Several times a night, and twice on Sundays" Emily giggled. "You have no idea how much energy this petite frame contains"

"I have a rough idea" Naomi grinned "How about you start right now..."

**Thats the first one guys. The second one will be longer, and give all the events that lead up to this some actual meaning. Sorry if its a bit arse about face, but that's how Nancy wanted it...and its her story after all.**

**Reviews? (remember its _her_ you're reviewing, not my sorry arse!" Ha ha ha**


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